by Louise Krug
We went to a place that had food in baskets. He was in jail for drunk driving but he could leave for an hour if somebody signed him out. He said the food was shitty. I wanted a cigarette, but he said he couldn't smell them or else he would want alcohol and then probably break another law. On the drive back, he said he wanted to stop at a place for ice cream so we sat in the parking lot as he ate his cone. It had not been the highlight of his week, he said years later, and then handed me an invitation to his wife’s cookie party.
Louise Krug has been published in elimae and Glossolalia, and has forthcoming pieces in Everyday Genius and Emprise Review.