Bloomington (Weird Hemingway)
It was a cool autumn morning and we tried to drink coffee on the porch but Elena was getting restless about the money.
“Why don’t you go up to Bloomington and find someone?”
I didn’t want to go to Bloomington because every time I went to Bloomington I couldn’t remember Bloomington IL or Bloomington IN or Bloomington MN.
“I don’t want to go, we’ll find something here. I’ll call Reggie.”
“I can’t go another winter” she said.
She was right.
“What do you think I should do?” I asked Kelly.
“I’m not sure why I’m in your living room” said Kelly.
“Yeah” said Elena. “Me neither.”
“Did you just walk in?” I asked.
“I can’t remember.”
“We can figure it out later” I said.
Either way, they were right. I had to go to Bloomington. On Saturday I hitched a ride from one of the lumberjacks working up north. He dropped me three miles from the airport and I hiked the rest of the way, trying to think about the spring but mostly thinking about how Kelly got in our living room.
Pete was at the airport and he took me to Bloomington IL and I realized I meant Bloomington IN and I thought about the girls and how cold it was last winter.