pushy

On the mornings there is trash to burn, I light a couple discarded tissue papers a couple feet below the rim of the barrel then I turn around and check my car parked. I check the passenger side for any of the smallest pieces of paper like a gas receipt. This morning there was one receipt and a crumpled piece of paper that was flat in my possession for less than five minutes.

I've heard it said if the brain is a piece of paper, the way to squeeze it inside the cranium is to crumple it. Dense brain.

I just couldn't go as far as not looking at the handwriting on the paper one more time. It doesn't really have the same effect if you tell the person you lost that paper but you picture what is on it. But, I couldn't not.

While he wrote his name, address and email, I said thank you. No ulterior reason, that's just when I say thanks. As he wrote, I thought, "If his penmanship is legible ... if he writes in smooth cursive, I'll keep this paper and consider visiting him or getting to know him." But, um, he handed it and it was messy.

He and his mother have recently moved from one of the sides of Cleveland. I think the side with a Ford plant. He was let go and he hasn't let it go. From there the details get as complicated as wrongful termination, mortgage payments and the death of his Dad. Maybe if I'd have known your Dad or we were cousins Leonard, I could make a connection to you, but I couldn't. That he received some kind of honor from the Mayor of Cleveland gives me information on an online city hall search but ...

Then finally, the way Sally said, "Goodbye Leonard." It was like she dropped the prepositional phrase, "And you be good this week." I don't laugh as much with my friends as his dumbfounded gasps of air were attempts to make me laugh.