Stood Up. (By: Chris Hathaway)

The breeze is blowing the petals off this bouquet I bought.
She’s probably just getting dressed. Hair, makeup, and what not.
My tie is tied wrong, dammit. Maybe she won’t notice.
She’s probably getting held up by her parents, it was short notice.
My watch says half passed the hour. The very hour before I went and bought these flowers.
She’s probably stuck choosing her dress. That’s it. She always does look her very best.
My shoelaces are undone but I digress. At least I have a really nice and expensive vest.
She’s running late, man. I look at my watch it’s getting late, man.
She’s never this untimely. Maybe she’s depending on a ride, oh finally!
Wait, no. That’s a different car. God, I wish I didn’t have to drive out this far.
My coat contains a note, one I wrote just for her.
She’s probably stuck in traffic. That’s it. I hope she’s safe this night was for me and her.
I look around and see a lively town, full of lights and people and lively sounds.
I get a text, God what next! Oh, it’s her!
She says she can’t make it, but that it’s not me it’s her.


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