when I crossed
paths in the
dairy section
with a boy
from college.
He nodded,
picked his head up
from his shoulder,
where it held a
grey cell phone loosely in place.
for a moment his
tiny, complicated phone
almost dropped
and clattered to the floor.
almost.
A silent nod
was my reply.
After looping back around to
the initially
passed-over cereal
aisle
I spot him again,
still with phone,
in the robot-run self checkout line.
I chose the checker girl
of aisle five
and was out in
four minutes
while he was still
fighting with
the robot.
In the parking lot,
as I turned the key
and the Green Monster
growled awake,
I watched him
(still on the goddamn
phone)
loading his groceries
into the backseat
of a black hatchback,
(hip and fuel efficient
if a bit obvious).
Looking away,
fiddling with the radio,
triple checking my mirrors,
I am compelled to turn right when
he turns right.
Left at the
next light? Okay,
left.
He loses me somewhere off Falls.
He had to know
he had to know
the strange silent girl
he had one class with
five years ago
was tailing
him
all the way home.
And she has no explanation.