A Lapse In Judgment
He tells me he needs to move his car. I tell him I can’t be party to that. He asks Sandra H. I tell her he asked and I refused.
“You got me tight,” he says.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” I answer.
She looks at me. I shrug, suggesting it’s her call. As though it doesn’t matter why he asked — a fact I don’t disclose.
So, she lets him go.
My heart is in my throat until he returns … fifteen minutes later.
a long silence after
that door closes
more by FRANK J. TASSONE
photograph by Darius SoodmandHire An Editor
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