ZYGOTE IN MY COFFEE.COM
|***BIO*** David Backer: I've published stories in the Houston Literary Review, Locust Magazine, Children Churches and Daddies, and Johnny America. I'm the Language Correspondent at the RagingFace.com, and I teach Theory of Knowledge at The American School in Quito, Ecuador (I keep a blog of translations, stories, and travel-writings at meinquito.wordpress.com). I also happen to be extremely woozy.|
|© 2009 zygoteinmycoffee Ink.|
|by David Backer|
|Nervous, Concerned (adj.)
Sylvia and Roberta sit on a set of stairs by the front door of their house. Sylvia is wearing a flower print dress and a white cardigan wrapped carefully around her shoulders. Roberta is wearing pajamas. They both lean forward with their elbows on their knees looking straight ahead. Roberta breaks a thick silence.
Do you know when he's getting here?
I told you.
No you didn't.
Yes I did.
No. You didn't.
He didn't say.
He didn't say?
He said between five and seven.
What is he, a cable guy?
I don't know.
You don't know?
I don't know.
What do you know?
I know that I met him online, that he said he was dependable, fashionable, and conventionally handsome.
And that he'd pick me up between five and seven.
Are you nervous?
Not even a little bit?
I'm not the slightest bit nervous. Not even a dollop, a pinch, of nervous.
Well I'd be nervous. I'd be nervous if someone I never met was coming to pick me up for a date and I got all dressed up and I didn't know when exactly he was coming and I was just standing by the door waiting--
I guess you and I are different people, then.
The door bell rings. The two women rush to answer it. They open the door and see a UPS delivery man standing next to a mannequin. The mannequin is wearing a suit. The delivery man asks them a question.
Can one of you sign for this?