The sun moved in to melt the snow
and thaw the Greenway Trail.
I lived on Barrack Hill,
which rested above the path.
I moved to the balcony
and lit a deathstick.
Now that the new year was upon us,
it’s time I broke my resolution.
I scratched the back of my neck
and shrieked when a woman hollered
and shifted my attention to lean over the ledge,
watching a woman on the meandering trail.
I took another drag of my cigarette.
She missed a step, jerked the wheel,
and flew over the handlebars.
She pushed the bicycle with the broken chain.
And I hoped she’d find the missing link.
I saw it all from the second floor
of my three-story home.
Guilt washed across my grin at her mishap.
“You know,” I said loud enough for her to hear. “I have links to fix your chain.”
The woman turned and cupped her brows. “See it all?”
“Let’s pretend I only know you need a new link.” I shot her a confidential wink and a serene smile.
“Who know…” she said, moving her hair around her neck. “You could be the link I’d been missing.”
We laughed.
I descended the stairs for a woman who pretended to break her chain just to be my missing link.