I Said I Would

She asked me in the hall, between

the mailboxes, the way I've seen

kids ask—no preamble,

just: will you come. The simple

weight of it. I said yes

before I'd thought. The press

of her attention, waiting.

I meant it. Later, taking

out my phone to check—

the Friday was a wreck

of overlap. One train

gets me there. The strain

is manageable. I wrote

the time and school—a note

on the fridge, yellow, small.

6:30. That's all

I wrote. I haven't confirmed.

The note is there. I've learned

that yes comes easily.

Fridays, less so. The early

train gets me there by six-

fifteen. I know the fix.

I'm taking it.