Out of Time

99 degrees on that parking lot, felt like 110, no breeze, nothing to cool ears as they swiveled on a sopping neck. There she was - pushing a lightly filled cart across an asphalt desert. I'm too young for her, 40 years since my brain woke up. I was born in my mid-thirties, problem is, when you are born in your mid-anything the linear roll of time tends to wobble a lot, moments drift in and out of you as if you were an abandoned vehicle. where only mice may nest. Half a mile from the crematorium a pub sells English beer, I'm just resting there now, dipping a tired mind into cold froth. Never suspected on meeting her so soon, I was not ready for an eternal romance, she also had forgotten her place in time. Old crone eyes looked at me through a newly minted face. In many ways, that dry-roasted parking lot could have been hell, but for a while we were in a brand-new heaven our carts coming together for a long, knowing kiss.