69th & Main

Issue 11 | Winter 2023 |



Chéri, do you remember the time we tried to move into that house on 69th & Main, but there were people already living there? And one of them was me? Lord, how we laughed. We’d struck a deal on that place, or thought we had, but at the last minute there they were, these people, one of whom was me, with their bourbon and their poker game, and I was the most stubborn of them all. One of them – it may have been me – looked up from her hand and raised her crystal glass to us with a benzo smile and a where yat, and we were turned away, back down the filthy steps, back onto 69th where half the lamps were out, dragging everything we owned behind us, losing most of it as we went.

From behind a greying lace curtain in the front room, I watched us go. It just so happened the rain was relentless that night, do you remember? Was there possibly also a flash or two of lightning? The river burst its banks at midnight, washed us clean away. How we laughed! And we’ve been vagrants ever since. Chéri, do you remember it?