• Vol. 10
  • Chapter 09


I roll down my window and she leans closer
The same proud pink coat still wraps her as comfortably
as the last time we laid eyes on each other
Two decades have idled past since then
I can’t help but notice she still carries her cherry umbrella
And how it twirls perpetually on her back
despite the obvious lack of rain
A jackhammer blares from behind the barrier
while horns scream their frustration
I barely hear her words
Does she say she’s proud of me?
I can’t be sure
She never said it when she was alive
The lights roll from red to green
For a moment I stall
But as she vanishes into the bloating smog
I shove my hesitant car into gear
and steer into another creeping decade alone