Her phone hasn’t rung in 33 days.
She hasn’t seen her son in 4 years.
Her husband’s been gone for 5.
All her relatives live across the country.
All her friends are either dead or dying.
She sits by the window and drinks brandy.
Sighs.
Watches the stars appear above the rooftops.
And sometimes she goes for walks
on cool summer nights.
The phone hasn’t rung in 33 days,
not even a wrong number.
And last night when
she returned home from a walk
she found two thieves
ransacking her apartment.
She didn’t panic; she didn’t call the police,
but rather,
she put a pot of coffee on
and asked them if
they would like to stay for dinner.