Mercurial Moments

Lying in bed this morning I imagined tugging Joan free from inside the frayed photo of her twisting her hair with her finger at our kitchen table. Stepping gingerly outside the 1/4 inch white border, her white blouse billowing from a fresh gust of air, she shakes her head with a smile. “I thought you’d never come.”
I turn my head. In the darkness, a glimmer on the wall. Time for coffee.
Entering my office, coffee and bagel in hand, I use my elbow to switch on the light but miss and knock something hanging on the wall. Illuminated, the newly framed poster — a Rorschach-style image of dancers in motion Joan designed for a production at her friend’s studio — now hangs askew. It’s title: Mercurial Moments.

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