The List Runs to Autumn

The shoulder clicked clean on the third round. Not the bad click. The good one. I worked the heavy bag three rounds and felt every one.

Danny was at the desk. We talked football for ten minutes. That's what we do when neither of us wants to say the real thing. Then I told him. I said I put my name down. He said that's the right call. He did not push. I did not explain. That's how we work.

Drove home. Kitchen was quiet. The receipt was on the fridge. The drawer was shut.

The list runs to autumn. I don't have a date. I did the hard thing and the world just said wait.

Some nights I think about the pool. I had a lane and a plan and then I didn't. Now I'm here with wraps on the counter and a shoulder that clicks. I put my name on a list because I don't know what else to do with my hands except swing them.

I'm scared the drawer stays shut a long time. I'm scared it doesn't.