Oh ferchrissake, just say it already.
I won't pout or get all teary or give you the silent treatment
or grab the car keys and slam doors like was my M.O.
in our beginning eons, ages, lifetimes ago.
You needn't be gun shy.
I’m a grown-up now. Also, weary. Just spit it out.
Suddenly, I thought about how much I had been walking lately. I thought about my steps; how many steps I have made today, how many steps I will make until dark. One, two, three, seven, twenty-one, forty-two, ninety-eight—back to Office No. 301 to get the dissolution certificate of the company. A company that went bankrupt in 1983 and its founders still have to deal with the problems...even 30 years later. It seems slightly unfair to me. After that there are the subway stairs and me walking up and down the dock waiting for the train to Piraeus to come. Too many steps in a day. Too many steps to be made by a woman.Read More
I don’t remember the last words my dad spoke to me. I’m sure it was something inconsequential or even nonsensical. After all, he wasn’t totally lucid for the last several days (or even several weeks) of his life. Every time I left the room, I tried to make sure that I said “I love you,” just in case it ended up being the last words he ever heard. Or maybe I said it more so that I could feel positively about our final interaction as I tried to go on living my life. It didn’t work.Read More