My friend died. She was my writing buddy. Three of us met in my living room. We always sat in the same spot, with the coffee table between us. She sat across from me and next to Melissa. She called herself Zinn. They brought yummy stuff, and I supplied the tea. Zinn liked caffeine to keep her going. And go she would.
Her favorite thing to bring was pineapple. So now I’ll never eat it without thinking of Zinn. The colors of the food sticks out in my mind: ochre hummus, green cucumber, red peppers, blue berries, maroon berries, white and yellow cheeses. All served with specialty crackers and Melissa’s home-baked goodies. We took turns reading a piece or two. Sometimes I played a song of mine on my guitar. I was critical of my singing, but they were patient and … Read More »