Sunday, December 14, 2008
It’s a Wonderful Life
By the time he’d analyzed his feelings for her, they were gone, and so was she. The distance between the bridge and the water that morning was particularly tempting: he passed through it on his way to better understanding. A police diver fished him out. She identified him at the morgue. Remembered their last night together. Their last dull argument. A short time later, in their apartment, she found a note in his handwriting on the kitchen counter. It said, “Are we out of eggs?” She thought a moment, then turned it over and wrote out this response: “Why don’t you stay home today?” He looked up from his newspaper. “I was thinking the same thing,” he said. “I’ll call the office, then I’ll get out of these wet clothes and mop the floor.” Soon, she heard him call out from down the hall: “Elizabeth? This is amazing. Did you know we have children?”
“It’s a Wonderful Life” added to Poems, Slightly Used.
In the Forum: extra pulp.