I have a lot to do – but I’m tired and I have an Echo Dot hooked up to a soundbar next to my bed and Spotify. I lie in bed and think of classic albums. I say out loud, “Alexa, play Dark Side of the Moon,” or “Alexa play Goodbye to the Yellow Brick Road,” or “Alexa play The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars,” or ….
“Party lights hang over the street, yellow and red and green. Sadie stumbles over someone’s chair, but I’m ready for this and I catch her easily by the arm.
“Sorry, clumsy,” she says.
“You always were, Sadie. One of your more endearing traits.”
Before she can ask about that I slip my arm around her waist. She slips hers around mine, still looking up at me. The lights skate across her cheeks and shine in her eyes. We clasp hands, fingers folding together naturally, and for me the years fall away like a coat that’s too heavy and too tight. In that moment, I hope on thing above all others: that she was not too busy to find at least one good man …
She speaks in a voice almost too low to be heard over the music. But I hear her – I always did. “Who are you, George?”
“Someone you knew in another life, honey.”
― Stephen King, 11/22/63