“People perplex….” She was writing a song. “People perplex me, the choices they make.” She took a sip of coffee. She lit a cigarette and let it burn in the ashtray. The doctor had ordered her not to smoke—“the cancer, for starters,” he said, though that was also the last reason—but she still missed the smell. “Unaccountably,” said her ex-husband, who had grown close again during her illness, had delivered food and jigsaw puzzles, had stayed to eat and solve, had stayed the night sometimes. “Do you think you and Dad will get back together?” said her daughter, who was going through a divorce of her own and could not keep an edge of envy from her voice. She took another sip of coffee and went on to the next line. “The body they find after dredging the lake.” She put her arms around herself and squeezed. She was the body. She was the lake.
©2021 Ben Greenman/Stupid Ideas
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