She spills her drink on her sleeve.
"Here" he says.
"It'll be ok"
Wiping her shirt with a warm, wet cloth.

They sit there, Staring at the walls, neither one willing to say goodbye for hope of some cataclysmic event to interrupt their parting. Its funny the things they think about to keep their minds distracted from the inevitable loss.
The way a shadow falls on the rug.
A speck of dust falling through a ray of light.

As he stands up, his hand hits the table, drawing a wince from his face. She yells at him to wait. Running into the kitchen with tears in her eyes, she reaches into the freezer, emptying cubes of ice into a plastic baggie.
Racing back to him, she takes his hand as if holding a precious jewel.
"Here", she says.
"It'll be ok."


--JB