Angel of Midtown

By: Laura K.

Final approach! I cue up my Discman.  

A cold and wet December day, when we touched the ground at JFK…

Despite the jetlag I bounce to the tambourine. Passport control takes eternity.  

New York, like a Christmas tree

He’s not home yet.  I shower, disappointed. Shaving my legs I hear him singing, sounding bemused, annoyed. I redo my makeup.

Showtime. We pretend we don’t care about each other. I crash on the couch. 

Morning brings Advil, coffee, another flight, my parents, The Holidays.  I know he’s doing the same, but I can’t picture it.

Jesus Christ I miss you. 

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑