¶ It was late evening. We were reading in the bedroom, Kathleen in bed and I in my chair. Suddenly Kathleen got out of bed and left the room. I hard the ruffling of papers, as if she were looking for something in her backpack. But it went on and on.

Then it hit me. “Are you into the fish?”

“I’m trying to open them.”

But you can’t open a package of Swedish fish from Agata & Valentina without a pair of scissors. So I opened it. “How many do you want?”

“Four.”

I laid them out on a small plate, one of each color.

The stocking of Swedish fish in a jelly dish on the dresser in the foyer is an innovation. I don’t know how I came to like them. I might enjoy one a day, but rarely more, and often none. So Kathleen’s “four” — four! — delivered a jolt. 

The whole business reminded me of my grandson, whom I was already thinking about because I’d talked to his mother earlier. But he knows where to find the scissors, and he wouldn’t have made any noise. 

This entry was posted on Monday, May 7th, 2018 at 11:21 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.