XCV | Burial

❦

Adam makes me
run after the ball

until I'm out of breath.

It's been a while
since I've played
soccer

so I go all out
with Adam.

He's a good player.

Better than–

you know
who I'm talking about,
right?

I blink sweat
out of my eyes

and we flop on a park bench

with (now warm)
isotonic drinks
from his bag.

There are no crickets in this place,
no street lights either.

We're lit up

solely
by the
yellow stars.

It's strangely
bright enough.

'Is that Rowan?'

Adam points
at a figure far away.

I notice now
(too late)

that Rowan is nowhere to be seen.

Did she leave after
I started playing with Adam?

Or much later?

I really
didn't notice at all.

The figure,
shrouded in the distance
by the night,

is pulling
a large trolley
behind her.

'It is Rowan,' Adam says,

standing up,
waving wildly.

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