I wrote this while trying to get into the mind of one of my characters for my novel in progress.
While driving through a neighborhood, I noticed an empty soup can in a window. I smiled wryly, remembering our all-clear signal from a lifetime ago. I wondered if the tenant was placing herself in the same untenable situation.
After I moved away, you called once but I had grown up and learned how to say no. I never heard from you, afterward.
Recently, a mutual friend and confidante informed me I would never again get the chance to tell you yes or no.
Hazy memories can be lovely.
Our reality wasn’t.