my mom and i were laying out by the pool. watching old men walk around in french brief bikinis and their salmon skinned wives smoke cigarettes in 98 degree weather. half our bodies were in the water, the upper halves belly down on baked cement with our chins resting on neatly laces fingers.
we watched 70 year old ankles shuffle by like a stud towards the shallow end with no clue the pool wasn’t heated.
“mom watch this…man-gina totally about to happen right now. opp, yep. there it is.”
70 year old frost bitten ankles shuffle back by, less stud-like. more senior citizen- coping-with-the-fact-that-the-fountain-of-youth-is-a-freezing-cold-bitch-like.
“i want to go to sweden. i want to see inge. i want to do something big.”
without so much as a flinch or sound motherly advice she said: “go.”
43 days left.
thank you mom for being a romantic once in your life. <3
xoxo - the little bukowski