Chances

He’s hungry. He makes himself eggs and feeds his cat. Rain pours. The rhythm brings him back to the years before his mother passed. Pork stew. Fresh bread. A dirty tablecloth. Beige plates with gold rims.

He had to finish his greens before he could go play. But he never did. His father wasn’t around. That’s what he needed. A man to discipline and tell him he can’t yell in a girl’s face and threaten her with a baseball bat for stealing his bologna sandwich. Now his own wife hits him.

Mornings aren’t bright. Two people meant to be lovers are tired of each other’s faces. She smokes. He smokes more. She drinks. He’s quit. They can’t have kids and he feels lucky. She blames him. He’s a bastard because he doesn’t pay her attention.

They attend church. She admires the pastor who’s aged well. Tall. Silver hair. A nice suit. He stares at the single woman with a Bible on her lap. Curvy. A pretty smile. Cleavage showing. They go home and make love for the first time in six months.

He jots his dreams…