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Posts Tagged ‘dog’

You make dresses for musical theatre and we are completely captivated. Your boyfriend disappears into the crowd as we ask about sewing, fabric, sweat, tutus and your thoughts on the updated designs for Les Mis. You have salt and pepper hair, and hold the lead for your dog all evening. I encourage you tell us about the time you dressed up in a corset, you do and then lament the size of your waist now. We grip our own bodies self-consciously. I could dive into your world and breaststroke my way somewhere else, head elevated above the current, mouth pinched.

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I quickly see that asking you for directions is the wrong choice. It is raining and I am late and you turn your body as you turn the map in your hands. You tell me I’m not far. Your beagle has the look of an impatient child, sniffing, barking, pecking at my feet. Something about Golders Hill Park makes you happy. You say the words over and over, using you teeth to smile, as though the path I need to take will become clearer with each mention. I ask about gold. You flick your wrist from me to the path.

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