Eric

May 19, 2025
by Andrew Brad

reflected in the glass like a slow confession.

I sat just under the light.

I was on my way to Santa Monica tomorrow
to sit in on a meeting.

I remembered meeting Eric
before an Asia concert—
or was it Rainbow.

He was making a ticket for the concert
out of cardboard paper.

I wasn’t an alcoholic, just yet.

When I first met her—the other her—
when I was three,
she asked me what I wanted to drink.

I said a White Russian.

She answered without missing a beat:
“I will have notting of that.”
And looked at me.

We rounded the corner down the street.
All we needed was a marching band.

There was a lamp out on the grass,
and a coffee table beside it.

I could hear her voice from the past
as we pulled into the drive—

A couple of tough broads.