Week #5

across the street, in a 3rd floor apartment, a woman sketched them on a paper plate. opened the window. let it sail. backed into the dark.

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the plate fell to the street. theo went and picked it up. turned around. smiled. a car horn sounded. tires screeched. em covered her eyes...

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theo pelvic-thrusted to safety. the car brushed his jacket and sped on. he stood there like a less-than sign, wheeling his arms for balance.

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em uncovered her eyes. "please, get out of the road," she said. theo sat again, handing her the plate. she smiled and looked up at the sky.

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the sketch, in pencil, captured their embrace on the sidewalk, em crying, spig with his fingers laced through those of emily's good hand.

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they looked up at the windows across the street, trying to locate the artist, who basked in the dark and thought: i have three good friends.

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em sighed, teetering. "this is quite possibly the best and worst afternoon of my life" she told spig. "better even than when you died."

Week #4

walking to lunch, spig said, "i don't, you know." "i never said you did," theo said. "don't what?" spig laughed and said, "dye my hair."

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they sat in a corner booth. sunlight pearled on the twist of hair above spig's ear. theo pictured it falling, splashing on the table-top...

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"halves on a cheeseburger grinder?" theo asked. "too much work," said spig. "why don't we just get a pie and take some back to emily?"

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spig had 6 pieces; theo, 2. "i forgot to eat breakfast," spig said. "and breakfast, lunch and dinner yesterday. i'm terrible about that."

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"i'll be right back" spig said. he went down the hall toward the restroom. 5 minutes passed. 10. theo sucked his lips in as he paid the bill.

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spig met him on the corner. "i can't believe you did that" theo said." "em has my wallet. really. i forgot to grab it. really. seriously."

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em sat on the curb. eyes red, make-up smeared. bandage on her hand. she waved. winced. started to cry. they sat alongside and hugged her.

Week #3

"thanks" said the date. "for what?" spig asked. "ruining my day. showing up uninvited." "you were late." "yeah. well. you dye your hair."

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em heard a slap and turned around. her date's left cheek was glowing. spig, hands up defensively, giggled and said "i'm not laughing."

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"it's okay" said the date. "no, it's not" em said. "really, it is" spig told her. "we cool?" offering a hand. shake. hold. shiver...

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"what just happened?" emily asked. the cabbie said "we're here." she spun back, reached for the dash with broken fingers and said AAHHHHH!!!

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"the young lady's in shock," said the nurse. "can i get a name and # from one of you?" spig looked at the date, who shrugged and said "theo"

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"not hers" the nurse said. "yours." "that is my name." "theodore?" spig asked. "theotis." "oh. i like that." the nurse said "do you mind?"

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they sat on hard plastic chairs, watching a talkshow. spig said "theo?" "yeah?" "feel like getting lunch?" "why not" theo said. "you owe me"

Week #2

he spaced out at the corner. she watched him space and they missed the light. "albert spignoli," she said. "alberta spignola," he replied.

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"i could still use a coffee," emily said. "me, too," spig said. "a pot. of." he pointed at her stood-up date, who rode by in a taxi.

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the taxi screeched to a halt. "i'm too tired to run" spig said. "you're also too tired to fight" em said, tugging his sleeve. "ow" he said.

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spig tumbled off the curb. em shrieked, falling on him. he could feel at least 2 of her fingers, still clutched in his, bent the wrong way.

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"your turn to say ow," spig told her. "that's not funny," she said, laughing through her tears and loving him for it. "please don't let go."

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emily's date loomed over them. "i, uh...what's your name, again?" spig asked. the man looked at em, raised his eyebrows. she said, "help?"

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spig and the stiffed-date rode in back. he could hear em grit her teeth up front. the cabbie said "who's the good guy?" emily said "you."

Week #1

spig waited with emily for her date to arrive. when he did, spig said "that's not him, is it?" knowing that it was. "it isn't. is it, em?"

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"i don't know," spig said. "he's got a minor mis-balance or something." em scrunched up her nose and said, "no, he doesn't. ha! shut up."

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"let's go" spig said. "we can't just leave" em said. "what about the coffee?" her date tapped the glass and smiled. "is there a back door?"

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he dragged off her chair and through the kitchen. the cook, nibbling on a block of cheese, said, "sorry." "it's not your fault," spig said.

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the screen door shut behind them. "what now?" em asked. a half-eaten block of cheese hit the rusty wire mesh and they both screamed.

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they ran till spig was out of breath--about 40 steps. he smiled at her, said "you love me." em squeezed his hand, thinking, if you only knew.

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spig's hair was black and mostly straight, except for a lone shiny curl, over his right ear, that she wanted to suck as if it were her own.