Tulip

Being outside a lot is such richness for the soul. Even the girl breaking up with me in my dream was doing so outside with tears in her eyes. It was a little less bad because we were outside. Her mouth said she was lying when she said, “I loved Cooney with all my heart. All of it,” as if she might laugh, and she said that I had too many feelings.

“Are you lunchin’? I haven’t thought about you in two days,” I said. Then I explained the word lunchin’, and she rose and said, “Well it’s been a pleasure” and shook my hand, and that’s when I pulled her back.

“No,” I said, “don’t do this.”

She was too cute to let go. I took her to a bar, where I realized the problem was that I didn’t buy her drinks. “What’s the one with grapefruit?” I asked.

“Tulip,” she said.

“Can I buy you a tulip?” I asked.

She shrugged, a screaming affirmation of my theory. I think the Germans were laughing at me for getting a tulip. But we were back together. A brunette with red lips. The drinks were so sweet.