Klempner - Twenty-Six Years Ago
After a morning of making arrangements, greasing of palms and more fun that I can ever remember having, I throw clothes into a case.
Passport…
Ticket….
Credit and debit cards…
Currency….
Anything else?
She’s nervous….
How…?
At the last moment, I unzip the case and pack one more item: pyjamas.
When I return to her apartment, mid-afternoon, Mitch is waiting. As I enter, her face lights up. “I wasn’t sure you were serious.”
A small suitcase sits by the door and the smile of a small child in the candy shop sits on her face.
“So now you know. I’m serious. Ready?”
“Abso-lutely.”
I nod her out. “Taxi’s waiting.”
*****
My fingers numb, I hold the umbrella over her. Sleet spits down from lowering cloud. It’s a miserable day, threatening all the chill
