It was bright yesterday, bright as only

March can make it. Tempting,

fresh, a game, a ruse. We took a

long drive by the river and watched the sky

turn ugly and cold. The woman

at the fish store was older than

we remembered, her hair was soft and

thinning on the back of her head and she

smiled at us while she caught angelfish

and put them in a plastic bag. The

fish store was dark and musty and the

tanks had white crust on their edges.

We used to come to her husband but he’s

dead now and she’s the only thing left to

remind us of him. After we drove I was going

to plant lilies, but it was raining

and cold and we decided they could wait.

It would be good for the strawberries,

we said, good for them to have rain, their

leaves are starting to uncurl and creep

around the sides of the strawberry jar.

by Cher Bibler