“Right next to the heart-shaped waffle maker, that’s where it sits.” Like so many other thoughtful, can’t-miss gifts that were utilized immediately and then quickly forgotten about.

“No, not the deflated exercise ball, it’s there on the other side. Can’t you see how neatly and purposely it’s stacked?” A thin, film of dust had collected and moisture had started to claim some of the top pages. But it was all still there, the zenith of my existence and purpose in this life.

“No I’m not talking about heart-shaped waffles!” She’s antagonizing me now… “Oh, haven’t you heard? They were all the rage a few years ago. What better way to express your love than with batter-based cake. “ Yes, I can be facetious as well, or has she forgotten that also?

“Yes, I still believe in Conor’s argument of symmetry!” She was the embodiment of perfection in all ways except one. There was a slight curve of her nose. It was nothing that could be detected with a passing glance. It was but a slight defect that could only be realized after hours of careful examination. And the year of us being apart hadn’t changed that.

“Why are you surprised I still have it?” After a few weeks at the burgeoning of our relationship, she claimed to be a Margarita incarnate. That somehow I had taken the role of “Master” and she had devoted her life to my work. I had killed all electronic forms of the vile tale, all except for a hard copy that eluded destruction among my other junk in the basement. “Manuscripts don’t burn, right?” Quoting Woland seemed apropos.

As her car pulled away I couldn’t help but notice movement in the truck parked across the street. It was a simple nondescript vehicle aside from the depiction of a hooked bass fighting for his freedom on its side. Out of it came a young man, a few years my junior. He wore a simple suit and carried a larger than average briefcase. One might even have expected it to be handcuffed to his wrist. When he reached the porch he gave a slight nod of acknowledgement and produced from the briefcase a paper. Although the document was unfamiliar I did recognize my signature as it began to burn in his hand. In a matter of seconds the last of its smoldering ashes were gone with the breeze. And with one more nod the man, his truck, and my existence vanished…


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paddyscribe (joined over 11 years ago)
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