you go through the box and you find

a cartridge of film

This is a ticket for the first movie we saw, see how it says right on it: Greta in the Wild, Student Matinee, October 5, a date that’ll rattle me forever. I don’t know if it’s yours or mine, but I know I bought them both and waited outside trying not to pace in the sort-of cold. You were almost late, which turned out to be as usual. I had a feeling. You weren’t going to show, was my feeling, the camera sweeping back and forth down the empty street in the movie of the date, October 5, me alone, gray, and pacing in the lens. So what, I thought. You’re just Ed Slaterton. Show up. Who cares? Show up, show up, where are you? Fuck you, everyone was right about you, prove them wrong, where are you?

And then from nowhere you were in my life again, tapping me on the shoulder with your hair combed and damp, smiling, maybe nervous. Maybe breathless like me. “Hey,” I squeaked.

open matchbox

Look at Lottie Carson instead

rifle more

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