Me Today

Me Today

The thief took off, Brother

There are about a dozen neighbours in the street now, almost all of us women.

Finally, it was settled that the driver must be Idoma

Everyone started to yell at him.

the brightness of the blue water reflected in their goggles

Our league is called the “Downriver League.”

She took her bony forefinger and made the sign of the cross on my forehead

“Hallelujah,” she said the last word, drawing it out

Weather because, well, hurricanes

We try to avoid those

and then through China Town so O could buy some mushrooms for dinner

My mother texted back the salivating emoji and asked me to save her some.

We weren’t really sure which fans we had been seeing on the streets

The driver showed us a wrinkly red River jersey that he had stuffed between the passenger seat.

I wanted to throw my head back and laugh about the ridiculousness of it all

I climbed around inside, securing the kids, who’d been kept out too late, into the car seats.

We lingered at the table until our pants were mostly dry

We explained that we were tourists looking for a place to watch the Champions League final.