We were moving out. There were three pianos in the room. My cousin and I sat down to play, at the same time. My piano was not in tune.
My roommate decided to move to Westchester. All her plants were dying. I took one to keep for myself, but there was brown, sloshy water in the bottom of the pot.
My grandparents were driving in front of us. The hatchback was wide open. Things were falling out of the car – a box of sanitation gloves, a bagpipe, my grandmother’s dirty underwear.
I tried calling them to let them know, but I couldn’t get through.
Marga Pictures 