Several days ago, I discovered a fly in the bottom freezer drawer,
-dead from cold- beneath the packaged, leftover gumbo made with a roux, the kind that must be stirred slowly – simmering on low heat- so that it does not burn.
Claudia crossed her hands as she spoke of her upcoming schedule, the dangers of narcissism,
and the joy of creative moments -her blue eyes betrayed an infatuation with cleverness- and later she cast her burdens on a subscription magazine and a glass of pinot grigio.
Further on that day at the convenience store, after receiving change -76 cents- for the purchase of his lemon-flavored tea and Marlboros, an un-named driver whistled a Meredith Willson tune -to mark his time in the parade of customers- turned and walked out
clearing before the door shut.