Passing through Central Park at dusk to the sinister sound of a hundred birds (that dream again). The first thing I recognize is his graphite Alexander McQueen skull scarf, he bought it because I told him it matched his overcoat. I've never seen the girl, her slender legs look perfect in black tights and 4 inch heels. He holds her hand, she kisses him softly on the right cheek.
Chloe sees it too. "Come" she says and grabs me by the arm. We were going somewhere but everything changes and she knows there's nothing to say. We end up on my bed with a bottle of Calvados, mother's shot glasses and a chessboard. She lets me win and we talk about Marilyn.
In the morning the birds sound different, I remember him calling me but it was just a dream. The letter I wrote to him still lies under a book in my night stand drawer and for the first time I actually consider posting it.