Coda

 Coda* 

Dave Brubeck by m ball

Roz stepped into the doorway of the guest room that is also my study. I was reading.

     “Do we have to take a turn?” she asked.

     “At what? - I don’t follow.”

     “A musical evening.”

     “If we do, it wouldn’t be till the end of the year - or the beginning of next.”

     “Oh,” she said. She looked up and backward as if into her brain. “I guess you’re right.” And she wandered away, I hoped not to put it on her calendar.

02.01.18

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 * See here and here. And here if you want to go back so far, to the beginning.