What happened to that poison wine?
I remember when a girl you had known from university days left a coffee invitation on our answering machine. You scoffed at her and didn't return her call(s). I felt bad for her, embarrassed.
Her message prompted you to tell the story of a cigarette at the lookoff in the valley. And of a letter that followed from a girl, laden with references to the "moment" the two of you had shared. You were smug. You had shared no moment at all as far as you were concerned, merely a few inhales/exhales. Nothing more, although it was clear that letter did plague you somewhat, as I was privy to that story on other occasions.
Now I am those girls. No longer sharing in your disdain for the petty annoyances of others, I have become one of them. Don't think that this escapes me.
At times it has the ability to cease my breath.
