I walk five blocks down to the Star Market while you take a nap in the house you’re renting from Steve. Taylor Swift's 1989 album blares in my ears. I imagine a world in which you want to go to the store with me. I imagine a world that's far away. I buy things that don't make sense but that sound good anyway. Fudge pops and spinach dip. Cheap wine and even more fudge pops. I imagine you asking me to stay, asking me to not move to Colorado. I imagine you realizing that you can't live without me. I walk back to your house with grocery bags that are so heavy they hurt my hands. You and your roommate are in the living room getting high. You don't ask where I've been. You open the jar of spinach dip and eat it with your fingers. And for some reason, I stay.
RACHEL TANNNER is an Alabamian writer whose work has recently appeared in Peach Mag, 8 Poems, The Rising Phoenix Review, and elsewhere. She tweets @rickit.