What does this look like to you?
Some miraculous, celestial happening? Two heavenly bodies in motion, working in concert to color the sky as they hurtle through time and space on a collision course with cosmic art.
I'm at a museum. Not by choice, I'm hiding. On any other evening, a trip to the museum would be grand, but I’m driving Sara tonight. She's a working girl and to get through the type of work she does, she has to prepare. Sometimes we catch a show, or a movie. Sometimes we drive around in silence until she’s ready. Sometimes I just play a song. Today, she wanted to go to a museum.
Regardless of what we do, it’s tense. Slight jabs, bitter barbs disguised as flirtation, passive-aggressive, dead air. Admittedly, most of that's on my end, but there’s only so much I can take.
According to Sara, this is me...
Yes, there’s a boat in my chest. Or maybe I’m the transparent woman spilling her ovaries out of that man’s elbow. Maybe I’m the ovaries. Maybe if I squint.
I don’t see it.
I’d like to remind Sara that this is, in fact, her...
I’ll hold my tongue. She’s the boss’s girl now.
Not my problem.