Yokosuka High RIse

WHy not?
'Cause I'm tired." That wasn't the reason, but I couldn't think of any other way to explain it.

Her name was Dolores and I met her at the bowling alley. She was married, her husband underway. We talked a little.

We took the elevator up to her apartment.

There on the nightstand was a photograph of a young sailor. "Is that your husband?"

She didn't say anything. She reached over and turned the photograph around without saying anything.

We layed in bed, quiet, listening to the thrum of crickets outside the window.

"Go ahead," she said. "It's what you want, right?"

I shook my head. "I like being with you."

"Really?"

The next afternoon a phone call for me. It was her. "Hey," I said. "How are you?"

"I've been thinking about you all day."