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Ater 50 years, we spoke by phone. We would go back for our high school reunion, we agreed, if we could get together privately, before or after. I had only talked to my friend one or two times in the past 50 years. But when we exchanged lists of our favorite books, we lined up on three out of four.
She still spoke slowly, carefully, but though we lived 3,000 miles apart, I knew we were connected.
"My grandson is three," she said, "and he told me that 'This is my hair, this is my scalp, and underneath that are my ideas."
A genius!
We asked each other if we'd colored our hair. She didn't; I did at the temples. So lucky, we said.
I reached her near dark at a golf course. A golf course? We weren't golfing kind of people. But, who knew, 50 years later? Later she wrote that she walked home in the semi-darkness. I think their weekend home is eight hours from their main home near Philadelphia. I couldn't drive eight hours. But I'd love to know her life.
Prompt
Write about your best friend from elementary school.
Copyright © 2014 by Laura Deutsch
