Look at Me!

The dog moved his legs impatiently. His owner had come back from the supermarket and was untying the leash from the lamp post by the curb. The wind jerked his floppy ears. They walked to the corner. The dog smiled and touched her leg repeatedly. She looked ahead at the houses and the trees.

The dog kept on smiling. He touched her leg again, stretching his neck until his head was as high as it could go. They reached a house. The owner opened the gate. The dog looked up at her. She moved her head, looking at the stairs in front of her. The dog went up.

 

Baggage

Baggage A great big cart full of boxes. The cart had a small wheel in front and a large wheel on each side. Some of the boxes were covered with black plastic bags. Two boxes were not. They looked like carton boxes that you get at the supermarket. A large dark green suitcase was next to the great big cart. The person seated behind all the baggage wore a lilac-colored hoodie. Was it a man or a woman? The N train going to Manhattan was going very fast. It stopped at 34th Street Herald Square. The person didn’t move from the seat. He or she was going somewhere. Where?

My little One

 My little Pekingnese is dead and I will never forget him. I can never bring him back. I can never bring back the time—the 6 weeks—we had together. He was a well behaved stray dog. I gave him what I thought was a home. I left him in the care of someone and he was gone. It was unexpected. I miss him and I pray for him before I close my eyes at night. It is not enough. If I could have him back. But I can’t. He’s resting in Peace.

Feelings

Feelings

I have gotten older. Many years have passed. My heart still remembers. I feel the way I did then. Inside me, the experience—the great big experience—is as alive as it was in the 1980s. That was when I felt like a queen. That was when I was young for the first time in my life. I acted like a young person. I was a young woman and I loved it. After years of dowdy stuff, of not caring what I wore,  I dressed for someone. I wanted to please him. When I ran into him, I wanted him to love what he saw. I wanted him to notice me.

 

My Voice

My Voice My Voice is gone. Nobody hears me though I have shouted for so long. My face is gone too. Who is there to look at it? My body doesn’t exist either. It is not seen anywhere. My soul. There is only my soul. That is the only thing that I have left. That and all the words I have written, all the pages I have filled with the stories that interest me most

I loved Him

I Loved Him He was a priest and I loved him. I loved him more than I have ever loved any other man. We were young, he was slightly older than me. I was not too experienced in the ways of love and sex but I knew what I was feeling and it was delicious. I cared for another human being. I cared if he was sick or sad or happy. Everything about him interested me. He was irreplaceable in my life. The obstacles were many. Some had to do with the Catholic Church and its Celibacy Rule, others had to do with us. I am sorry that I never became a priest’s wife—a working priest’s wife. I am thinking about all this because of an editorial in the NY Times on January 13th, 2012. It was called For Priests’ Wives, a Word of Caution. I think that in order to understand what it feels like, you have to live it. I did and I don’t regret my love. Someday all priests—not just former Episcopalians—will have wives, if that’s what they want.

N Sleeper

The N Sleeper
The man was stretched out on the seat, face up. His hair was all white. The wrinkles told of a hard life. On his head he wore a beret. The jeans were clean as was his dark winter jacket. The N train going to Manhattan made several stops. He kept sleeping. People came in and out. One person sat near him, another on the seat across from him. He didn’t hear or see a thing.

I Had To

I Had To I was all eyes, all heart and soul that hot Sunday afternoon. I looked at you as if I had known you forever. We understood each other without speaking, but I had to say it with words so there’d be no misunderstandings. The effect you had on me was something I had never experienced before. It took me by surprise and I had already spent too much time trying to deny it. At first I thought it was best to keep it from my self, to push it somewhere far. It was no use. The feeling wouldn’t go away. It begged me to acknowledge it. I had to tell you. I loved you. You were the only man I wanted.

Every Detail

Every Detail:

They are forever in my mind, the last hours of your life. I went to bed but sleeping was useless. You were there, on the cool bathroom tiles and you couldn’t sleep. I changed the bandage on your front legs every half hour as the vet had asked me to.  The house was too quiet, so I turned on the radio. I don’t remember what the talk show host was saying, but his voice kept me company. I didn’t want you to die. Two days earlier I had asked you to please hold on to life. I loved you and wanted you with me. But your illness wasn’t going to go away. You were in deep pain. I walked around the living room and looked out at the cars on the street. I forced myself to go back to the bathroom. It was your last castle. They were going to come for us early in the morning to take us to the vet’s office.

I Remember

I remember as if it were today. It was your last meal. I went to the supermarket on the next block to buy all the ingredients. I wanted the best for you—as always. Almost 5 years later, I can still see the face of the guy behind the green grocery counter. He weighed a plastic bag with carrots, some potatoes and strawberries. You loved strawberries. I had already gotten the meat—a thick slice of filet mignon. I paid at the checkout and went back to the apt. I didn’t want it to be your last night, but your illness was making you suffer. I took the meat out of the bag and went to the bathroom. It was a very hot summer and the vet advised me to keep you in a cool place, the coolest in the house. There you were, on the bathroom tiles. You could hardly move, but you looked up when you saw me. Here, I said, holding the meat. I am going to make this for you in a little while. You looked at the meat, then at me. You tried a smile. You ate everything like a man on death row.