About the Author Autumn Collins attended The Ohio State University for four and a half years (including those infernal summer quarters) and emerged with a bachelor's degree in English with a minor in Women's Studies. She then landed a job, relevant to her degree, at McGraw-Hill Publishing, in the Middle School Science division, and has been correcting the grammar of interesting sentences about plate tectonics and supernovas for just over a year. Some of her work can be seen in such literary and online magazines as Plain Ink, Sniffy Linings, Comrades, The Absinthe Literary Review, the printed anthology Letters From the Soul, and the Sniffy 3 printed journal from the Sniffy Linings e-Press.

“So
What are you doing with yourself these days?”
I blink twice
And try to convince myself I’m not actually sitting across from him
Again.
“No. Seriously.
I thought about you the other day.”
I feel silently violated.
“You look good.
Thinner.”
As opposed to…
“You know, I think you may have a wine glass or two of mine.
Don’t worry about it, I’m sure you must have packed them by mistake.”
I don’t tell him about his brown shoes
Sitting on the floor of my closet.
Those were packed out of spite.
“Did I already tell you? I got promoted last week. Pretty cool.
Hey, have you heard about getting your raise yet?”
I stare blankly at him
And wonder how sharp this fork is.
“That’s okay. Your time will come. It will.
How are you doing otherwise? I heard you’re still sticking it out
With what’s-his-name. How’s the ‘rock star’ thing coming along?”
Too many strikes.
I am dumbfounded.
“It’s great that you’re writing again. It’s cute that you’re pursuing a dream like that.”
I stare at the tablecloth,
Writing his eulogy.
He hasn’t noticed that I haven’t even opened my mouth
To reposition my gum.
I guess he never needed me.
“It’s just great to see you.
Great to talk to you.”