Spanish Fly

. for public domain A folded, yellow lined sheet of legal, taped to a railing of chipped red paint, caught my eye as I stepped down the stairs from a Lower East Side dark street. A note from our ancient Chinese landlord? A scrap captured from chaffing winter winds? A secret message from a foreign spy! A Dear John letter hastily written by my betrothed on her journey to Spain. "I need to find myself, and a better life, a rich suitor, a seaside villa. I still love you! Take Care! Good Luck! Good Bye." I unlocked the door and fed the cat, Jack, nibbled a sandwich of honey ham and rye, peered out the window at heels passing by. Go all you, and wither! Die in God damn Spain! A knock at the door, "I missed the last coach. Can I stay here with you? Is that alright?" I got out spare blankets. "You get the couch." "43's in the pantry. Put out the light."