Backstory, and: Birthday

BACKSTORY

It began innocently. We agreed in advance. We kissed in the bar’s back room after the band was through. We told everyone. Neither of us knew who’d started with whom, and who knew what was going to continue? Not the banking system, not the snowy winters. The Tulip Room was lit up and emptying. We kissed our friends goodbye and bought another round. We flirted with the drummer. I bought the T-shirt then brought the car around. You closed out in cash, late night’s only currency, and waited in the alley. You were autographed. Then you reversed your glove and got the drummer’s number. The roads were iced over. The roads iced over, I pulled over. Are you calling that number? Gloves off. Then autograph, alleyway, cash-only late: night’s current reversing around us, the car, while almost everything closed outside. You pulled up my T-shirt. We forgot the drummer. Don’t kiss me goodbye, buy me another. The Moonlit Room was still lit and empty. Fuck the snowy winters, fuck the system, fuck me. Who knew whether this was going to continue. Neither of us cared who’d started with whom. We’d tell no one we fucked in the bar bathroom while no band played; we agreed in advance. Innocently. It began.

BIRTHDAY

It’s his birthday. She’s made a cake. She serves two slices, and they sit on the steps that lead out to the yard. She’s made a cake; she’s learned from his mother. They sit on the steps that lead out to the yard. He’s growing mint in one of the planters. She’s learned from his mother to make fondant roses. He’s growing mint in one of the planters. He garnishes their plates. To make fondant roses, she’s learned to be patient. He garnishes their plates; she watches the candle drip wax on the frosting. She’s learned to be patient. He closes his eyes to make his wish. She watches the candle drip wax on the frosting. She sings happy birthday. He closes his eyes to make his wish. They sit on the steps that lead out to the yard. It’s his birthday; she sings happy birthday.