It was lovely having you pick me up at the airport,
I was so dreading finding the right bus
Or spending a fortune on a cab to the city.
I can’t believe you have such a beautiful apartment,
Stunning and bright
Wonderful views over Washington Heights
And the shining towers in the distance.
You can see the sun glinting off wet treetops in Central Park.
At least I like to think that’s what it is.
I hope you remember the nicotine caps I asked you to get.
You have so much more to think about, after all.
I hope they fit my vaporizer.
I pull my hand grinder and coffee beans out of my bag,
I will time it so the brew is ready just as you walk in with your shopping.
He is still asleep in the other room,
So I’ll make sure to have the spout open on the kettle,
Wouldn’t want to startle him from his afternoon nap.
I looked in on him a half hour ago,
Before I looked at the view
And thought about everything that has led us here,
To this moment.
He has your nose, your lips.
I couldn’t see his eyes.
There were traces of a smile.
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
The first future memory was written off the cuff, as most of my twitter writing is, during a text conversation with a friend. Shortly afterwards as I read it back I realised that although it was something that I wanted to happen it was imaginary, a fantasy. However it felt real, it felt like something that was possible, that could actually happen in a few weeks and resonate backwards through time, like a memory from the future, rather than of the past. So I wrote another, set in a different city. Another meeting, another possibility, another memory from further in the future. The idea took shape from there, to explore a relationship between two people as different iterations of meetings in different cities as the years go by, alternative takes on each meeting. So the project has begun and with some work and luck and inspiration and the cooperation of my various muses there will be a book next year, or the year after. Perhaps. Or perhaps not. It all depends.