Tuesday, March 31, 2015

My Life as a Felon


Lately I discover one of my closest friends is a convicted felon.
Wounded. Wounding.
Repentant. Repenting.
It happened once. It could happen to anyone. It could have been me. 
It is me.

She calls to see how I’m doing. 
(So normal.)
She texts to inquire after my mother’s health. 
(What is normal anyway?)
We strategize a secret birthday surprise for her husband. 
(Normal doesn’t exist.)

It happened once. It could happen to anyone. It could have been me. 
It is.

She wins an award for her outstanding talent and brilliance. 
(No one knows.)
I complain long and deep on days and she weeps with me. 
(Knows what?)
But we can only meet in certain places and in certain cities and she cannot leave the state.         (Everyone knows.)

It happened once. It could happen to anyone. It could have been me.
You.
Us.