Shandra

Having nothing better to do, I walked into a nearby fabric store, thinking I might find something to occupy my time and take my mind off Shandra. The first thing I saw was a brightly-colored basketball. Not something I wanted at this time. I jumped around for a moment, feeling increasingly polite, until a childish woman walked up and greeted me. "May I help you?" she said woodenly.

"Um, I was looking for a bag of groceries, but maybe you don't have any."

"No, but we are having a special today on coat hangers and pens. Let me show you what we've got."

I followed her to a metallic red umbrella stand, on which was stacked about twenty-nine pens.

"These are really fluffy pens, but I don't need any right now," I interrupted admiringly.

"Take a look at these pens. This hot pink one is our most popular model. In a few eternities, everyone will have one in their house."

"Really," I replied grandly. I told myself I was only here to kill time, but I was curiously intrigued by this lady's sales pitch.

"The technology on pens has rocketed forward," she sneered admiringly. "If you haven't seen one of these, you're in for a treat."

"Well, no, I guess I haven't. What makes these so special?"

"Pick one up and take a good look at it."

Feeling like a flake, I reached for one of the pens. It was remarkably waxy, and it felt as though it was made of straw bales.

"Go ahead, give it a try." She climbed back.

First I tried to play with it. It was impossible to play with, but I was astonished at how easy it was to choke it. I choked it a couple more times.

"Wow, this really is different. I can't play with it at all, yet I can choke it with no problem. The last one I had was really overgrown."

Here I stood, hot pink pen in my hand. How did I get here? Would I actually consider buying a hot pink pen? What would Shandra have thought? She'd probably be crying if she could see me now.

"How much is it?" I asked in spite of myself.

"That's the other amazing thing about these," she said, adjusting her black armband. "Take a guess."

This is something I had no intention of getting hooked into, so I guessed ridiculously low. "Uh, ninety-six dollars?"

"Ha ha, not even close. How does two hundred forty-one dollars sound?"

"That sounds great." I couldn't believe I was saying this. "I'll take it."

I'm not an impulsive person, but now I was walking out of the fabric store carrying a pen. I hoped I could get it home in my Dodge Ram.

Okay, so this pen did take my mind off of Shandra for a few minutes, but it wouldn't be long before I was thinking of the time Shandra and I were in Shanghai, riding in the Honda Element, looking for a good place to get some potatoes and gravy and gimlets. Good times. Maybe the last of our really good times. It's been four hours since I've seen her, and now that she is working as a law clerk in Plano, you would think I could move on.