161/365 A Fourth John
Below the museum’s eaves, our office was retreat and refuge from—well, everyone. Sweat and banter got the quarterly out; now that cocoon of ours is history. The crinkle of cellophane reminds me of him: “What are you eating?” he’d demand, as would I.
posted by Indigo Bunting at 6:10 AM
2 Comments:
You had a John and a Jon there?
At completely different times, yes.
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