Maude and Me

he might have been a felon, a freak, a frizzle wiper or a fraud. we did not know him actually said speaker, young judgmental Maude. he had a look about him that made me clutch my purse. she assesses strangers quickly, treating people mean and worse. he might have been an angel, a do-gooder, a friend, a partner, I say. trying to uplift judgmental Maude’s mind a teensy tiny bit today. he might have been sent by God to test you, to see how kind you are. she gave me an eye-roll and talked about his eye patch and his scar. Jesus might have had an eye patch and a scar, I told her then. but the scar was an upside down cross, right across his chin. is could have been a test I argue. Maybe you should have said hello. She sniffed her disagreement saying “he was a disgustingly old fellow.” Maude and I are not friends by accident or choice, but by proximity. live next door to each other, but we have nothing on which we can agree. her perspective is flat-out negative, because her ideas are so fringed. I cannot hear her opinions long before my peace of mind is tinged.