Weeknights, Idling, Candlelight


I find that I am keeping silent more often.

I don’t like repeating myself.

The danger for doing so is greater after three years.

So now we watch late night television in silence.

Except when I ask if she wants a cigarette.


The crooked rearview announces the traffic piling up.

I can’t stop fidgeting in the driver’s seat.

Kelly studies the gas station to the right, waiting for my answer.


I suspect this is the last dinner we’ll ever have together.

Kelly orders lasagna and a beer.

I get alfredo with white wine.

She frowns at my choice and I frown at hers.

We split the bill.

Samuel X. Brase writes about punk music regularly for East Meets Left <>. While that plays in the background, he also
writes short fiction for various journals, with the hope that one day Steven Spielberg will option movie rights on his unwritten novel.


Copyright 2009