A friend invites me to a party to meet Susan. She’s out picking wildflowers for the table. Somehow, I end up arranging them—some latent talent surfacing. Guests take notice as Susan arrives with a smile and joins me briefly, decorating the flower vase.
I overhear the host say, “Hmm, what’s going on with the military officer corps these days?”
I’m a lieutenant. We share a moment of graceful silence, exchanging smiles.
I shake hands with the host on my way out. Susan gives a hug, avoids my outstretched hand.
pottery class—
my fingers become
red clay