WOMAN OF THE DAY - michael herman


michael herman

I'm a man, and I have needs. Yesterday, I'm walking to work. The sky is blue and looks like the sky. The grass is green, looking like grass. The tress, flowers, and plants—all looking like trees, flowers, and plants. It's early. On my way to work I find a ten dollar bill on the ground, then run into an old friend I haven't seen since high school.

"Hello, old friend," I say. "I haven't seen you since high school. You've aged, but you still look like you—as you should."

"Hello," my old friend says.

My old friend leads me back to her apartment. We talk. She makes me coffee, and we have sex. On my way to work again, I notice that the ten dollar bill is gone and ninety dollars is missing from my wallet. Everything still looking like it should—the sky, grass, trees, flowers, and plants. At work I can't help but think of my old friend. She hasn't changed since high school, but that's okay, because I like her just the way she is—as she should be.

Michael Herman
The Box Man
Kobo Abe