Sunday, March 31, 2019

Ephemera

Thinking about James Joyce’s Dubliners and Katherine Hepburn’s hair pins on her dresser backstage in her dressing room reminded me of a man whose house I visited years ago. He had a converted barn filled with theatrical props and my friends and I were thrilled to see a chair on which the great Ms. Hepburn sat in a production of a Broadway show. We spent the afternoon in his beautiful home, left, went for a walk in the woods and found a pristine lake. We stripped down to our underwear and slipped into the cool water. A couple walked by and stopped to watch us and when we came out, I noticed she was pregnant.
My friend and I spoke to the couple for a while as we put our clothes on over hot sticky skin. The woman said if she had a girl, she would name her after me.
We said our goodbyes and disappeared from each other’s lives. We made the trip from Connecticut to NYC in silence.

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