A Dialogue
October 2008

“You’re late.”

“I know; I couldn’t help it.

“Why didja havta go and be late? You know how I hate for you to be late.”

“The trip took an hour and twenty minutes. I couldn’t use my cell phone to warn you because I’d be even later. You know the new rules.”

“The beer’s warm, the dinner’s cold, the candles ‘er melted. All my work—wrecked. I wanna leave this mess and go out for dinner. Pretty please.”

“At least you don’t have to clean the house again. May I help you repair the evening? You microwave the dinner, find new candles in the drawer under the counter where I put them last week, and I just happen to have brought cold beer in my little cooler, here.”

“Wow, Sam. Thanks.”

“I brought you something else.”

“You did? What is it? I told you I wanted to stop collecting THINGS.”

“Well, light the candles, sit down, and check this out.”

“Ahhh! The bag is so small. And look at this teeny box. Sam, you didn’t...Oh! There’s my dream ring!”

“I couldn’t help it. The jeweler just happened to have the perfect stone in the perfect setting, just like you described to me from your dream: A huge amethyst set in gold, with a tiny diamond star. Won’t protect us from a quake on the Hayward Fault, but at least it’s pretty. And it doesn’t take up much room. Try it on.”


Tania Hudd Selden