Until She Let Go of Him

by Kim Chinquee

She said it to his face now. Because he said he couldn’t decide between one girl or the other. One was her. The other had her name, only ages younger, and now he sunk his head and that gave her at least something. And then he started talking more about the other. How she was so young and he was scared that he might hurt her.

She told him to go on more.

Him: how he was feeling low and that one was trying to seduce him and what could he do? He didn’t want to hurt anyone. He was crying now and pawed her.

She could have tried to stop him. But he went on, saying he was scared, because of boundaries. He told her that he trusted. He asked if she would tell. It could get him in trouble.

His face curled like a catfish. She even hugged him, held him. He cried on her shirt, starting sobbing even. Shhh, she said, it’s ok, and he said he was sorry again. He said he didn’t know. He said it again, and then he asked her if she loved him.

She looked at him, and she dried him up.

Kim Chinquee is the author of Oh Baby (Ravenna Press) and the forthcoming collection Pretty (White Pine Press), and is co-editor of the forthcoming Online Writing: Best of the First Ten Years. She is the recipient of a Pushcart Prize and lives in Buffalo, New York.

Back to Issue Two: Winter 2009