I'M AT a party. I forget where, some crowded kitchen, my wife’s friends. I’m in the background swapping smiles and dodging contact.
A sudden shift seals me off by the refrigerator. I don’t really mind so long as no one sees me. To see me is to feel it, whatever it is that makes me this way.
There’s a calendar next to the sink, one of those monthly planners with a box for each date.
Meg haircut, 10:00.
Bob ortho, 4:30.
I page ahead to June 21. I write:
I get a card.
Tom Larsen has published over 60 short stories in the past two decades. “Solstice” is the shortest. Tom lives in the Pennsport section of South Philadelphia, home to Mummers, Flyers and that screw you slant that made this city great. For a writer auditioning characters the 19148 zip is a casting gold mine.