Updated: Oct 12
By Kenneth M. Kapp -
Stan remembered how Cindy had looked at Hank. He swallowed. “Do you love him?”
“Well,” Cindy’s jaw went up and down rapidly, her tongue circulating the wad of gum as if it were in a front-loading washing machine, “well, always. At least since Friday since that’s the first time we met.” She paused, blowing a tiny bubble that made a small pop.
Stan nodded, knowing what she meant. They had been an “item” for two months until last Friday. On their second date he had asked if she would always love him. She had answered, “Well, always.”
Kenneth M. Kapp was a Professor of Mathematics, a ceramicist, a welder, and an IBMer until downsized in 2000. He taught yoga until COVID-19 decided otherwise. He lives with his wife and beagle in Shorewood, Wisconsin and writes late at night in his man-cave. He enjoys chamber music and mysteries. He's a homebrewer and runs whitewater rivers. You can find more of his work at kmkbooks.com.