Some days, Erin loved the city. She loved its chaos, its hubbub, the mad zip of cars and the clatter of voices, the shiny buildings, the smell of cold stone and hot smoke.
Some days, she wanted to kiss the world right on the lips for the most ridiculous reasons: a pair of jeans that fit her just right, a chocolate ice cream, a baby smiling at her from a passing stroller.
Some days, though, the world primly refused to kiss her back.
There were the days she hit every stoplight, tore fingernails, lost favorite articles of clothing, caught colds, spilled coffee, broke shoelaces, and ran out of gas—but she could handle those, too.
There were very rarely any boyfriends, but there were PTA meetings with awkwardly single fathers, and every now and then a smile from a stranger in the apartment mail room.
For those days, Erin had the Sweater.
No comments:
Post a Comment