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 good morning.
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I wrote one piece in the Saturday workshop that was sort of charming in a way, and unexpected, the way we like them to be, and a little wistful and comic, and I'm glad to say that because mostly I was having one of those writing sessions where nothing was really coming, or what was coming was fragmented and hazy, you know, and then near the end there was one piece, which I thought I'd share. And, you know, I write so much, and I'll think, Oh, that one I'm going to work into something longer ... but I'm not. So why not just share the work?
Oh -- It was from that prompt "Have you forgotten me?" which appears in Pat Schneider's book Writing Alone and With Others.
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Have you forgotten me? I came by yesterday to get that book back and your roommate said you were out, so I sat on the porch and wrote you this note about how I just adore your new Jeep, and I wish I were still riding in it but I suppose those days are over, and I think the way you have been doing your hair lately is better than the way you used to do it, and there are some things I never told you about that time we walked down the railroad tracks to that old tobacco barn and sat in there and I told you about my childhood in the Army. I told you things I'd never told anyone else. But I had more to say and I never got to say it and now it seems whenever I try to see you you're not home or you don't have time and I understand but you know how it is when you're not through with somebody yet but she's through with you.
Like I saw your mom at the store and she asked why I hadn't been around lately, or she hadn't seen me, and I said that I'm working an extra shift at the store but I'm not. I'm sitting at home doing mostly nothing. I haven't started going out yet. I'm still kinda down. I mean, I didn't think this would happen.
And the Anchor Book of New American Short Stories I lent you was such a wonderful collection, and I lent it to you thinking you would read it, so we could talk about it and maybe have some laughs like we used to, not just keep it lying around for you new boyfriend to be impressed with, or to look at it and say, oh, that book from your ex, you still haven't given that back yet? You know he's just using it as an excuse to come around.
In fact, your new boyfriend saw me sitting on your porch writing this note. I saw him drive up and then he kept on going because he didn't want to see me because he knew we would get in a fight. You wouldn't like that, your new boyfriend and your old boyfriend wrestling in the dirt of your front yard -- incidentally, I could have some guys come by and put sod in, or at least plant some grass; you really shouldn't have just a dirt front yard, it doesn't suit you. Or you could have your new boyfriend do something about it.
But listen, I'm not trying to get us back together again. I just think that two people, after they break up, they still ought to at least be friends. We had a lot in common. We liked a lot of the same shows. We had some laughs. Come on. Don't be a stranger.
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You seem kind of quiet this morning.
Nah. Just not much to say.
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Well, it's Monday
Yeah. True.
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But it's Monday a holiday. It's Labor Day.
Yeah. True. OK. Well, go boating or something.
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OK. I'll go boating. See ya.
See ya.
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