the whole story, pt. 8

At thirty-five Nicole was in New York on a conference. The first speaker she caught was a congressman from Seattle, discussing education and social justice. She met him after, and they escaped to a quiet bar for drinks, then to an IHOP for coffee. It was eleven o'clock.

At thirty-seven, Eric said, "In college I used to stay up until, oh, five, six am at places like this."

"Yeah, I used to work in the IHOP in the U District. Usually on graveyards. Part of me really misses those days."

"No kidding? I probably ran into you a few times."

She smiled. "Were you a student at the U?"

"Yeah. I left a poem on a napkin there once, actually," he continued. "Right before going to New York for a few months. It seems silly now, of course. There must have been hundreds--"

He trailed off while she fished through her wallet and delicately set a yellowing napkin on the table and pushed it towards him. "Was it this one?"

"I can't believe you kept that."

They stayed up late just like they used to years ago. This time they told the whole story.

[That's all she wrote. I'd love to hear your thoughts. -- Ed.]