"Boat."
It was sinking.
We had tried for years.
And it was still sinking.
We had made light of our problems.
We had even joked about them.
And it was sinking.
We had rented a new apartment together,
one with beautiful light and clean wooden floors.
And we had a new puppy that cost $300.
And it was still sinking.
We were right for each other.
We had even consecrated it through grief and laughter.
And we had a decent amount of good times.
And we thought we looked good together, which is something--
some kind of balm.
And it was sinking.
My friend laughed as the water spilled in.
And then the three of us in the boat swam to shore.
Luckily, it was summer, and the Merrimack
is a fairly clean river.
The "he" of the "we" did not laugh.
Afterward, I stood on the pier, wet but not drowned.
It was possible this would make a good story.