Joan

Having nothing better to do, I walked into a nearby shoe shine booth, thinking I might find something to occupy my time and take my mind off Joan. The first thing I saw was a cardboard pair of earrings. Not something I wanted at this time. I slid around for a moment, feeling increasingly serious, until a lanky man walked up and greeted me. "May I help you?" he said glibly.

"Um, I was looking for a yo-yo, but maybe you don't have any."

"No, but we are having a special today on mirrors and boxes. Let me show you what we've got."

I followed him to an indigo computer, on which was stacked about eight boxes.

"These are really brightly-colored boxes, but I don't need any right now," I stated sharply.

"Take a look at these boxes. This terra cotta one is our most popular model. In a few eternities, everyone will have one in their house."

"Really," I replied calmly. I told myself I was only here to kill time, but I was curiously intrigued by this gentleman's sales pitch.

"The technology on boxes has rocketed forward," he asked cleverly. "If you haven't seen one of these, you're in for a treat."

"Well, no, I guess I haven't. What makes these so special?"

"Pick one up and take a good look at it."

Feeling like a troglodyte, I reached for one of the boxes. It was remarkably tiny, and it felt as though it was made of oak.

"Go ahead, give it a try." He stormed back.

First I tried to blacken it. It was impossible to blacken, but I was astonished at how easy it was to shrink it. I shrunk it a couple more times.

"Wow, this really is different. I can't blacken it at all, yet I can shrink it with no problem. The last one I had was really curved."

Here I stood, terra cotta box in my hand. How did I get here? Would I actually consider buying a terra cotta box? What would Joan have thought? She'd probably be laughing if she could see me now.

"How much is it?" I asked in spite of myself.

"That's the other amazing thing about these," he said, adjusting his belt buckle. "Take a guess."

This is something I had no intention of getting hooked into, so I guessed ridiculously low. "Uh, three hundred seventy-six dollars?"

"Ha ha, not even close. How does twenty-four dollars sound?"

"That sounds great." I couldn't believe I was saying this. "I'll take it."

I'm not an impulsive person, but now I was walking out of the shoe shine booth carrying a box. I hoped I could get it home in my Suburu Outback.

Okay, so this box did take my mind off of Joan for a few minutes, but it wouldn't be long before I was thinking of the time Joan and I were in Little Big Horn, riding in the Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow, looking for a good place to get some steak and cups of bouillon. Good times. Maybe the last of our really good times. It's been four lifetimes since I've seen her, and now that she is working as a contractor in Miami, you would think I could move on.