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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “Gone Fishing” Down in the Dirt, v173 (the July 2020 Issue) Order the paperback book:

Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology Outside the Box the Down in the Dirt May-Aug. 2020 issues collection book		get the 422 page May-Aug. 2020 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Tuesday

Camila Lopez-Passapera

I step over rocks below the boardwalk, breaking
in the blue sneakers I got for Christmas, trying to find you
the best stones to skip. You tell me any good one should be
American, which for you means round at the top, and flat on
the bottom. The sun melts into the water before five and we wonder
out loud. God, when did the sky start darkening so early? I figure
we leapt into each other one day when darkness still fell
at eight o’clock and by the time we were out it was winter.
At some point, when we weren’t looking, our only light became
the moon, and the thousands of dead things that surround it.

On our way home, we encounter a shop that sells old artifacts.
The ornamented, complex mirror by the front door tempts me
to enter, but you are enticed by the cameras. Your hand’s grip
on mine loosens and I think about how many things I meant to do
but never did, old clothing that sits in bags beside my door, lines
I thought of but never wrote, and is this what giving up feels like?
Holding collectible baseball cards and thinking maybe I, also,
could use three tries? Inside, I buy a first edition of The Bell Jar,
see two old, dusty typewriters, but mostly I look at you, and wonder
how much time there is left, if any, until we become antiques, too.

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