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shiny objects

Saturday, May 14, 2005


Alan's gone, and I am out of air.

It's to be expected. If you live with someone for 4 1/2 months, you're going to get used to him. You're going to need the little coughs and sighs and sneezes, the wet sound of his breath in your ear all night. You're going to need his commentary and his compliments. The constancy. Non-sequitorial hypothetical questions. Beatles lyrics. The taco-chip crumbs, soda cans three-quarters filled with flat pepsi, tarnished socks and wilted khaki pants. You're going to need him. I need him, but he's gone.

Not forever, though. Alan promises to visit me in early June, careening along insterstate highways from Chicago to my pretentious St. Louis suburb. I'll be waiting,

For I've really grown to love that grinning hippie.


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