I’ll stop pretending I know where this is going. I’ll do the dishes, the forks, the tiny spoons, the coffee cup. I’ll think about you while the steam rises from the sink. I’ll think about how, while it may be less cold here, it’s still pretty cold. I’ll think about how the time of year, the latitude, the relative elevation, the conspiracy of moisture and pressure bearing down on us all have something to do with it. I’ll think about how I should really get a move on with everything. I’ll sigh and look out the window and I’ll make another cup of coffee. I’ll think that you’re better off not knowing.
is a peripatetic teacher whose writing has appeared in MacQueen’s Quinterly, Shot Glass Journal, and Otoliths.