I was at the local nursery today to buy a few herbs and vegetables for the garden my youngest son and I have been planting. After finding what I needed, I walked around [longing for] admiring the flowers and trees and roses. The wind started, turning the warm day chilly, and I shivered in my light jacket. A man walking by remarked, “It’s getting cold.” I smiled and dipped my head in accord and went on my way. I turned down the next aisle, and there he was again. He said, “Are you from _______[the town I've been exiled to]? Haven’t I seen you somewhere? Working at _____?” I again smiled and said, “No. I’m from up north, San Francisco. I haven’t been here in a long long time.”
I moved on [the ranunculus were extraordinary].
As I was going into the nursery building to pay, the man approached me for the last time, “Are you married?” he blurted. And I, unable to do anything else—unwilling to admit the truth—replied, “Yes.” He looked momentarily hurt and said, “I thought so,” then nodded and walked away.
There was a funny version of this story that first came to me—my true inclination in most situations. However, when writing it down, it didn’t happen—despite, at the time this situation occurred, running a witty and humourous internal dialogue….