The Man at the Door
“Yeah Iz, It’s true,” I said, half believing it myself.
“So, are you still going to get together?”
“Izzy, I just found all this stuff out. Its a little hard to comprehend all at once.”
“Menina,” Izzy said sternly, “You can’t possibly date a blind man. It’s just unreal. What the foda are you two going to do together? And a wife? He’s damaged goods, meu amor.”
“Izzy, really…” I pleaded, sinking down into her sofa, and stealing a ciggarette and match from the table.
“Oh no no no, menina. You can’t be…” She hissed, pacing across the floor.
“Be what, Izzy? In love?”
“No, I mean, we don’t know each other very well, and therefore, I have to be reasonable. I’ve just started this thing out all wrong.” There was a knock on the door, Izzy scampered hastily to the door.
“Isabella, il mio amore,” a man’s voice chimed through the door.
“Pablo…” she purred. Isabella looked from me to the door and back with a pleading look.
“I’ll go, I’ll go…” I offered.