caresses me for a minute. Nothing happens. Our eyes lock.
I shrug. She looks away.
“Never mind,” she says.
I know I loved her, I mean, shit, I married her. I
remember saying the vows. But that was before.
It’s like a bad joke.
Knock-knock?
Who’s there?
Don.
Don who?
See, you don’t remember me either.
She twists her wedding ring round and round then
says, “You don’t smile anymore.”
“Sure, I do, look,” I curl my lips back. I’ve
practiced in the bathroom when I brush my teeth. I like to
see the toothpaste froth in my mouth.
“I miss my husband,” she says.
I thump my chest, “I’m right here.”
She shakes her head, stands up, and walks away.
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