Is Anybody Using This Chair?

“Is anybody using this chair?” she asks, slim smooth hand already grasping the thing by the scruff of its neck. Of course I am using that chair at this table for two, crowded against a friendly wall. That chair supports both past and future— only the present sits empty. Tony, for one, is due, my fellow birthday-holder, the man whose cellphone remembered to invite me. This intimate table’s surrounded by forty sky-happy people I don’t know, chattering, clattering friends in a future I may not ever enter. Have you watched old men or women converse in a corner with companions… Continue reading