Steven D. Bennett


Smashwords Edition


Copyright © 2010 by Steven D. Bennett


Cat had a tail.

You could see it plain as day, even from where I was sitting. Even if you weren't paying attention, like I wasn't. But I wasn't paying attention less than anyone around me, there at the table of Café 575. Me, Beth, her two friends, Claire and Spence. Open mike night, and they were transported via the haiku brought forth from Maxwell, the skinny guy on the small stage with greasy hair and stubble-goatee.

Me, less so. Normally the high point of the week, Saturday night, sitting with Beth just about anywhere, reveling in the roasted smell and taste, listening to the rhymes and meters and lyrics. Maybe not appreciating it as much as her, maybe mostly not at all, but at least being there, with her. Listening.

Tonight my thoughts wandered. Blame it on the argument we'd had earlier, Beth and I, about our relationship. No, not just our relationship, why stop there? About every relationship under the sun; about what love and romance really was and how I didn't have the Poet's Heart. How I'd been distant the past weeks, the past month, how she'd noticed a drifting. I hadn't noticed. Of course not, she said, because that type of deep soul touch was foreign to my non-poetic, sump-pump of a heart.

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