by Jimy Valenti
I picture Heather leaving the bar in split screen as I hurtle down the 12 South, too drunk to drive. She’s flirting and laughing and getting into his truck, leaning over as he drives through town. A hand on his leg. She turns the radio on. He says she’s crazy. She says he has no idea. I get arrested at Bella’s bus stop. I can see our driveway. Our floodlight sputters like it did back then. They get back to his place. Dom. I see him around town. Now he works the recycling plant. Nice guy. Stacks the cardboard with a forklift. He smiles when he sees me. I don’t think he knows Heather and I were together. I keep seeing it. Heather stumbling out of Dom’s truck, a hand in his back pocket, and then they disappear inside. This was sometime before Bella was born. I kept seeing it, although I didn’t want to, as Stevie went on and on.
Add comment