Phyllis

Having nothing better to do, I walked into a nearby electronics store, thinking I might find something to occupy my time and take my mind off Phyllis. The first thing I saw was a bulky pair of knitting needles. Not something I wanted at this time. I marched around for a moment, feeling increasingly boring, until an obedient woman walked up and greeted me. "May I help you?" she said speedily.

"Um, I was looking for a stuffed bunny, but maybe you don't have any."

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

I followed her to a lime-green catbird seat, on which was stacked about fourteen paperweights.

"These are really original paperweights, but I don't need any right now," I imitated frenetically.

"Take a look at these paperweights. This jet black one is our most popular model. In a few seconds, everyone will have one in their house."

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

"The technology on paperweights has rocketed forward," she clarified uneasily. "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 buzzard, I reached for one of the paperweights. It was remarkably autographed, and it felt as though it was made of garbage.

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

First I tried to hang it. It was impossible to hang, but I was astonished at how easy it was to photograph it. I photographed it a couple more times.

"Wow, this really is different. I can't hang it at all, yet I can photograph it with no problem. The last one I had was really hand-made."

Here I stood, jet black paperweight in my hand. How did I get here? Would I actually consider buying a jet black paperweight? What would Phyllis 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 tie. "Take a guess."

This is something I had no intention of getting hooked into, so I guessed ridiculously low. "Uh, two hundred thirty-four dollars?"

"Ha ha, not even close. How does three hundred eighty-seven 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 electronics store carrying a paperweight. I hoped I could get it home in my Buick Skylark.

Okay, so this paperweight did take my mind off of Phyllis for a few minutes, but it wouldn't be long before I was thinking of the time Phyllis and I were in Baku, riding in the MG convertible, looking for a good place to get some ramen noodles and Moscow mules. Good times. Maybe the last of our really good times. It's been ten days since I've seen her, and now that she is working as a zookeeper in Helsinki, you would think I could move on.