that i've had very little to do
with the passings of this day
i woke, i bathed, i brushed hair, then dressed in my favorite of favorite black dresses the one
with the pockets that unzips in the back and i thought if i never hear back i will be ok as i
crossed highways looking ever forwards into an etched sky i arrived, paid rent, perused
mail, then walked carefully towards the brown building: regardless i will be compensated:
he sat there waiting for me in his best cowboy boots, hair neatly brushed, mustache combed
he handed me a check and i went forward and read, and joked with all the necessary people
informed the rest of my appearance: he and i went upstairs: check in hand, we sat by each other,
waited as if we had waited our whole lives together, spoke of God, my divorce, my father's passing:
joked that another year and he would be present for another turn in my life - we spoke of marriage
and its many down falls, the control issues that stemmed from it - he, himself three times: i bit my
tongue no need to remind him of his times in jail, from the get go and thus we waited: when we
returned down, we approached the bench - nothing left but to face a long awaited disposition
i had done little to help this man
yet he thought i hung
the moon: i had listened
and he had instructed
i was wrong - dead wrong about the outcome - he walked out with me
the probability of being granted probation after being designated a habitual offender is a great deed yet indeed not by me
