Provisional

He said two weeks. That was August.

The board is still up — raw wood,

screws not flush, the tape gone rust-

brown at the corners. It should

have been done. Jana came Tuesday,

first time since he put it up.

She stopped in the hall midway:

always been there? I said yup,

probably. Like I'd chosen it.

She nodded. Coffee. Other things.

The tape keeps peeling. October hit

without the call. The morning brings

the board into sharper light

some days. Jana asked for more

coffee. I said yeah. The night

went on. I have the number. Before

I dial I always mean to.