Welcome back

Well, well, well.

Look what the cat dragged in. And where exactly have you been? Gallivanting around, no doubt. 'Off to the coast, you know,' and whatnot. Clearly. Look at those arms. Like a couple of burned sausages. My God, you're as swarthy as the gardener, I can't believe it.

Well, hope you had a good time. Mm-hmm, of course you did. Must have been wall-to-wall excitement for you; didn't even have a chance to write. I mean, it would have been nice to hear from you. Nothing major, just drop me a line, tell me you're OK. Oh, don't bother apologizing. It's OK. I'm just twisting you up.

Besides, you didn't miss anything much. Well, Reg and me are getting divorced and Martha's son Nathan -- remember him? He was supposed to start law school last year, and was engaged to that pretty girl, what-was-her-name? It's something French. Renée.-- well, he committed suicide. We were all pretty surprised. Well, everyone but me. I saw it coming. I think he was a closet... you know.

Oh, and those irises on the walk-up are new. Did you notice them? So pretty, but they're gonna die on me. I know it.

It's been a long time you know. Do you know that? It was spring last time I saw you and you were about to meet a new girl. How did that work out?

Oh, well it doesn't matter. I'm just glad to have you back, wherever you were. I swear, I don't know what gets into you. When you disappear for so long, I mean, I know it's morbid but

I just thought ---


I just thought --


I just thought something might have happened to you, Harvey. Oh, hush. Don't worry about that. You just do me a favour and write, OK?

* * *

And though she didn't really need an apology, I said it again. And again once more, in fact -- and then I teetered there awkwardly. I wasn't sure what else to say. What to say really; I hadn't really said anything yet.

But I stayed quiet, as though hoarse from the months of silence. And she disappeared. And I was in my room again.

I consider the open notebook on my desk. The pages are full, and I flip them idly; why didn't I write? I look at the clock on my desk, encircled in a robot's chest. The ticking doesn't bother me; why doesn't it bother me? I ponder my arms; how did they get so dark in this rain-soaked summer? I didn't go anywhere. So where have I been?