Jason lives across the way. He never comes to see us. Not anymore. We are mostly fine with this arrangement, as we don’t like him very much, though at the same time we cannot fathom why he isn’t sprinting across the street to come see us. We have everything he likes. He used to roll around on the main couch in the living room making sounds of carnal satisfaction. He used to mix various liquors from out wet bar and declare the result a “Jaybomb.” He used to pretend to waltz with our dog, Frederick, who is almost as big as Jason. The incident that initially busted up his pattern of regular visitation occurred last Christmas. We had no present for him under the tree. He flipped out and then some, tried to wrestle the tree to the ground. Everyone called good riddance after him, a jerk. And yet, a year on, we find ourselves missing him terribly. There’s no way to fathom the uncertain pulse of the human heart.
©2020 Ben Greenman/Stupid Ideas
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