A Minute to Myself (20)
A Welcome Break from Thinking

A Man

There is thunder, there is lightning. It's a hard rain a' falling in the middle of a humid May day.

I was lying on my love seat, not doing any of the things I need to be doing, but doing, instead, what I really needed to do. And the door bell rang. Buzzz buzz. I am not expecting anyone. One daughter is in her room, the other is at at friend's Bat Mitzvah. Again, buzzz buzz. Maybe it's a realtor coming to see the house? I went downstairs. I could see a figure beyond the glass door. I opened it; there was a man standing there.

It took me specks of time to recognize that man. It was my ex-husband. When I realized who it is I turned around and went upstairs. His response was "oh." A man in an orange polo shirt, hair just cut. He has no wings. He has no halo. He has no fire coming out of his mouth. Just a man. And there was nothing in my heart when I saw him: not hatred, not remembrance of lost love, not anger, not pity. Merely recognition. 

A sad encounter on a hard rainy Saturday.


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