When Winter Blooms
The car moved through Saturday afternoon traffic, slower than at night, the city going about its weekend business, people on sidewalks, a farmers market on one corner.
"She knew every word," he said quietly after a while, so as not to wake her.
"She practiced for two weeks," I said. "Gerald heard it approximately forty times."
"He seemed to hold up well."
"Gerald is stoic."
"She found us immediately," he said. "When she came out."
"She always finds her people."
He was quiet for a moment, something moving through his expression that was private and careful and very present. "I missed the winter one," he said. "The flowers weren't…" He stopped.
Sikat na Kabanata