She never leaves her office for lunch on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. Always on Mondays, she leaves late, around 1230. Wednesdays later, but never past 1:15.
It’s power-suit Wednesday red. And she’ll sit in the shade nibbling her sandwich like a mouse and pretend saving the world with her swift email replies—except when she needs both hands for her yogurt cup. It’s a silent tradition of unpacking empty cups and bags in front of her kitchen sink late at night. Later tonight, I’ll call red haired Nicki and we’ll go a few a rounds before I send her to the corner mart for a bottle of vodka.
Shoes off, hair up, tightly hunched over. I used my binocs once, but damn if the people in the photos didn’t look like them models when you first purchase those frames. Even the golden retriever was smiling.
Wed Nicki, Thursday Kari. Usually Monday or Tuesday Nicki will roll around after her husband’s sleeping. I can always count on egg rolls and beer with Nicki. Kari brings blindfolds and cigarette burn marks. Shoes off, hair up, tightly hunched over. Still.