On a Saturday Night

On a Saturday Night

So, … Alone on a Saturday night.

Kind of. My son Alex is with me, at least for a while until he returns to Paula’s (and Salo’s) and that ain’t bad in and of itself. I was supposed to be spending the evening cheering up a buddy whose girlfriend decided she’d had enough but, being a pretty cool and successful guy, I think he may have become distracted by someone who knows how to take advantage of an opening when they see one. I was watching the Yankees but this year they seem to be making believe they’re Red Sox blowing a pennant drive. I don’t know how Red Sox fans handle it.

I’m supposed to meet my fiancée later on but, … right now, I’m in my den and Alex is in his room, and the world seems just fine (at least domestically). Still, as always, I miss Billy and Edward, something I don’t ever get used to and really don’t want to.

A pause, a chance to do what everyone claims I should do but I just can’t seem to, to live for the moment, to enjoy it, to savor it.

So, … Alone on a Saturday night.

Kind of. And it’s almost just fine; if only Billy and Edward were nearby.

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© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2012; all rights reserved

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