A Man's Heart

Today while walking Honey past the elderly high-rise, the clear glass electric doors opened and a man who knows my name shouted "Emily!" He was wearing navy-blue sweatpants that were slipping, revealing his abdomen and showing the patterned elastic rim of his boxer shorts; he hiked them back up. As he spoke, his top row of dentures let go and he popped them back onto his gums. "I'll only hold you for a minute. I went to the hospital and they shot me with dye and saw my heart was bad. They said they can't operate because I could die on the table. They said I have a very bad heart. Take care of yourself, Emily."