Between two friends


Written on Friday night…


I’m on another patio but the weather isn’t nearly as pretty as it was last week. Right now clouds are rolling in – a breeze is kicking up, the temperature is dropping, and it looks like the sky is about to open up. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that it doesn’t rain because there’s really no where else to sit; not to mention what will certainly be a mad, comical scramble to get my laptop protected. We’ll see.


I grew up in a town called Pearland. It’s a black spot of earth that sucks away at your soul, but that’s a different conversation. For now, the relevant piece of information is a good friendship that began in high school is still alive and well today. Not only have we remained friends, but her family and mine have developed a new kind of friendship. It’s been great.


My friend’s husband, S, is on his way now. Over the years, he’s become a wonderful, strong friend whom I respect and genuinely enjoy spending time with. We’ll be relaxing, having a few drinks, I’m sure to mock him being an ardent Republican at some point, and we’ll finally get to the real reason he called me to hang out.


He and his wife, my old friend, look like they might not make it as a marriage. This blows.


photo by banjo d



  1. What is wrong with Pearland? It is a nice suburb of Houston with good schools and a great place to raise children. I tend to like it and don’t see the place you are describing…


  2. Lynn,
    Thanks for the comment. Perhaps I should have written it (was) a black spot of earth – it’s been a long time since I’ve lived there. Everyone I talk to that’s still there seems to share your outlook, so it’s more than possible I’m just carrying luggage…


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