a short story by Christopher Walsh, finished March 2016
"I ended up at Psycho Safeway the night of my junior prom."
"We all ended up at Psycho Safeway the night of our junior prom."
"Maybe. Drama there that we'd just see; nothing we'd caused. Maybe that's it."
"More of that at night."
"Yep. Less to distract from anything that's happening when it's night. And we'd gone there often enough in the day that we knew things still happened then."
"Feels weird. Admitting that, I mean."
"It's OK to feel that. It's how you honestly felt."
"You feel weird, knowing I went there that night?"
"I'd've felt weird if anything had happened to you. But...don't feel like you need to apologize for being there. Or for what happened with the cereal."
"Maybe I should apologize for THAT."
"It's their job to handle it. And you don't make a habit of that...right?"
"Course not. But...but I still feel odd."
"You feel that any other time there? It was a moment. You saw it. I barely missed it, probably. My luck. I'd've liked to. It was just luck."
"Luck gets weirder there."
"How did we not see each other?"
"I think you just answered that."
"The answer doesn't have to be satisfying to be right."
"Maybe. But...it'd feel better."
Thanks to Elisabeth Allie for the first line, and to Ted Douglass for the second. I've never been to prom, but I have been to Psycho Safeway.