Verification

I had the speech ready.

The way it rattles when I hit forty,

the high, thin whistle

that sounds like a kettle in the dash.

I held my breath, waiting for the shrug,

the look that says I'm making it up

or that I just don't know how things work.

I've spent a year proving the leak is real.

But he didn't even lift the hood.

He just wiped his hands on a rag

and looked at the front left tire.

'I know exactly the sound,' he said.

The stillness hit me in the lungs

like a sudden drop in pressure.

I stood by the stack of used tires

feeling the air go flat

in the best way possible.