Okay

They were sitting in the candle lit dark, four women, young but old, not 25 not 35, in that age of decision making or prolonged avoidance. Eyes locked, minds focused, upper bodies leaned forward. Their eyes looked at the other with such admiration and attention, the intensity was hard to avoid. Only one drank wine, the rest sipped on water. Two shared one chair.

Looking at them from the bar it was hard to believe that they were so young or so attractive or dressed so well for this. Their focus was inward; they noticed no one in the locale, as if they only came there for the chairs and table. They engaged in one another like it was utterly personal, like they were determining each other’s fate, the stakes were high. Their Saturday night commitment and care was abrasive to outsiders. They held on to each other’s words tightly and finally relinquished the place for the apartment. No more yelling over the increasingly intoxicated and intrusively present patrons.

They walked to the closest apartment and went straight for the bedroom. All four lay on the bed their stories strung between them. They communally processed the failures of the past. Though their fears gripped them each in a way unique from the other, their shared optimism inspired laughter. One of them dozed off to sleep. Believing that the past gave them the artillery to face the future, they kissed each other good night. In four separate apartments, in four separate beds, four square blocks away from the other, they each sent a message to the other “I’m home safe-good night.”

The next morning at 9 AM the plans for breakfast buzzed on four bedside tables.