“Remember Rick, my husband?” she says
“Sure” I say
“He’s in California now.”
“Yeah?”
“Got some tramp out there, I’m sure.”

I imagine California
Little picturesque Sequoias sprout on my plate

She mutters under her breath
Then, to change the subject, she throws an ice-cube at
me
It bounces on my chest and lands on top of a Sequoia
Cradled in the branches.

“Cut it out” I say
She looks sheepish
The ice falls from the branches
Landing on the plate with a “plink.”

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