Put away your swords—
don’t you know that it’s all
it was nice but now it’s
Why are you obsessed with
stick to fishing from now on.
-from Jesus Christ Superstar
hadn’t been a good night, she could tell. Peter had that look. He probably did a guy walks in, she thought. Too soon.
It’s too soon.
ended the way it was supposed to. But only a fortnight had passed. It was still
in the air. So, so sad. Even if it was all according to plan. The air was
just as heavy.
sat down, and ran his hands through his hair. A fisherman by trade, Peter was away
for long stretches. He always came home with stories; he told them well. He
enjoyed making other people laugh. Sometimes to a fault.
stared at one another. She smiled, and it hurt and broke the silence.
me get you something to—
I made some—
well. How did it go.
You know how, when I bring home fish, I clean them. Skin them. Gut them.
seen you. You’re very skilled. Very quick.
Well. Thank you. My point is, tonight up there, I was a fish. Cleaned, skinned.
Gutted. I was fileted, is how it went.
did a guy walks in, she thought. He
told it well. In another time it might’ve gone over. Another place. Probably would
have. It was just too soon.
started with a guy walks in. I ended
with a guy walks in.
tell it well.
lifted her apron, pretending to wipe her upper lip, and hurried to the kitchen.
Too soon, she thought, and stood on
her toes to reach the small clay jar. A sharp herb smell tickled her nose, and
made her eyes water.
do tell it well, don’t I, he asked. Here now, don’t cry.
brushed away a tear.
are a good woman. You have made me a fine wife. You know what I think?
What do you think.
took the clay pot, and pushed his hair away from his eyes. She had imagined it
many times. The coins in the air, and the frightened doves. The angry men and the whip that snapped and lashed.
only been a fortnight. I think it’s too soon, he said, for a guy walks in.
watched her fingertips make tiny circles and figure eights. Pale green and
was sad, and she wondered what it changed.