Sunday night
Jeff D. was visiting with me in the basement playroom at 3374. We were sitting in a couple of chairs, facing each other, in the middle of the floor. There didn't seem to be any other furniture in the room. He was in a good mood, smiling, and acted somewhat sheepish and surprised that I'd been upset that we hadn't spoken in so long. He hadn't thought anything of it.
*****
Jeff and I haven't spoken since he stormed out of the poker tournament in the early hours of April 10, 2005. He and his family are back in Virginia now. Details of this spat can be found in the explanation beneath "Another Day, Another Theater," August 29, '07.
I wonder if we'll ever talk to each other again.
1 comment:
If you wanna, you oughtta. There'll come a day when it's too late for one of you.
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