Fresh Start

He dumped you; hard.  You decorated his smell out of the apartment.

Later, as you chased a rag up and down the new heron-leg stools and along the front of the Uba Tooba counter; as you polished the rubber plant; gave the prayer rug a shake; combed the sand on the end table with a tiny rake;  artfully managed not to disturb the bonsai or knock the crystals from advantageous points in the high corners while you dusted;

The New American

Sid emerged from the tall grass of crisis a new man; empty, content; ashamed to even own a shadow.

Sid’s solitude seemed weightless. To achieve the company of Oneness, he turned down dinner invitations.

Sid bought undeveloped riverfront and spent his free days on the bank alone with the fortunate.

Published here