Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Pico Ave.

"You know what I remember? I met you on a Tuesday, that's what I remember. First Tuesday in June, and it was hotter than hell."


"I remember I had everything in this bag, you know? In this shitty little Safeway bag, everything I owned. And I didn't really know where you were. Richard told me Pico Avenue but that was it, and the only time I was there I was too high to keep it all straight. It was this lemon tree that saved me, that's what I remember. Do you remember that tree? There was this lemon tree in your front yard."

He stood there in the door-frame, not saying a word. He could still see it, could still see her crossing the front yard, still saw the outline of her framed against the window of the front door. He remembered but stood there and said nothing.

"And there you were. I thought it was a miracle or something, but I was just a kid. I packed your stuff. It's inside on the bed. I love you, Bobby, but I'm not going to fight about it. You have to leave.”

No comments:

Post a Comment