FIRST DATE AT CONEY ISLAND - robert swartwood


robert swartwood

win me the big purple dinosaur she asks gripping your arm tightly her fingernails biting through the thin fabric of your shirt. you smile at her thinking why not and step up to the booth. you pay the guy his three dollars and receive two balls. you take a step back and wind up and throw the first ball. it misses. you throw the second ball and that one only knocks over the top bottle. wanna try again the guy asks but you only smile and shake your head. i wanted the big purple dinosaur she murmurs in a soft dissatisfied sort of way as you both head back down the boardwalk. her hand has left your arm, those sharp fingernails no longer biting through your shirt, and this you realize later is how you lose her — why she will never return your phone calls or answer your e-mails and why when you see her on fifth avenue years later she will walk past you like you are a broken insect too inconsequential to even smash with the sole of her shoe.

Robert Swartwood
The Girl On the Fridge
Etgar Keret