rain splattered against the cold window
my breath fogging up the glass as I said
my address and slumped against torn navy blue
leather, thick purse straps falling down, down
and it hit with a thud and she’d ask what do you
have in there, anyway? rocks? but I’d always
laugh it off, but now I wish I’d showed her what
I kept, my cosmetics, knock-off Coach wallet
and a journal with her faded picture skotch taped
to the first page, I wanted to throw it at her
see! you know I love you, best friend, but
that time is now long gone. Watching the meter
run, run with blood pumping through my veins
ragged gasps for air, sweaty brown locks sticking
to the back of my neck, tear streaked cheeks,
she said I was going to be a runner one day,
maybe even beat her time. Well, all I know
is that I did beat her time, but not
in the way she intended. The cab stopped. I went
to pay but he refused. It’s on me, he said, before
driving back the twenty miles to the city.
-Madeline Wahl
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