Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Couches on Curbs/2

Abel walked for what seemed like hours. And then when he could walk no more, there it was, an old discarded sofa on the curb. The cushions were gone. But it would do.

* * *

A cat cried in front of the woman's house. She opened the door to let it in, then spied Abel on the curb. At first she was alarmed by the nearly naked young man. She picked up her cat and hurried back in. She wondered if she should call the police. She turned off the lights and stared at him through the window. There was something familiar about him, something that touched a part of her past.

She got ready for bed. Watched a little Leno, and shut off the light. But she lay awake. Finally she got up. She reached onto a closet shelf and went outside in her bare feet. The cool cement and the grass felt good. She walked over to where Abel was now dead asleep and covered him. The cat had followed and elected to curl up on the sofa with the stranger.

The woman went back inside, alone, and dreamed of making love in a forest of the past, on a bed of fiddlehead ferns. (To be continued....)

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