Tag Archives: that fucking wall

Under Arbors

I flagged you down as I sat under the tree, waving my hand, flipping it, almost as if I were shoeing you away. But I didn’t need to do it, because I knew you’d seen me from nearly a block away. This is where we’d planned to meet. I’d be nowhere else.

“Hi,” I said, decisively.

You nodded.

“It’s been a while.”

“Only since the last time,” you said. And I knew you would say something exactly like that.

“How are…things?”

“Everything is great. I’m working a lot. I’m going in in a few hours.”

“On a Sunday.”

You nodded again.

“Wouldn’t you know.”

“You said you had something you needed to ask me,” you said. “Did you actually?”

“I’m not stalking you, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“I’m not implying anything. I’m here, aren’t I?”

There is one side of a wall you like to live on.  For a short time, I was on the other side of it. I’m not entirely certain what is there, especially looking back, nor am I sure if you were ever on the other side at the same time as me. But I do know I scaled you, with my ropes and my climbing gear and I jumped down, landing on my knees in a cloud of debris.

“I’m not really sure how to answer that,” I said.”

You took out a book. Began to read.

“Get off the top of the wall,” I said.

“Come back to life,” I said.

“Shit,” I said. “So long ago.”