While Cleaning Out a Closet by Eileen Curran-Kondrad

I came upon a picture of you
In a full page newspaper article about
The inn you and he bought together.
The two of you
Rolled up, laminated like a time capsule.

You were standing,
Smiling,
Gazing out of the picture
With your husband sitting down next to you.
Smiling even though you’d spent hours
Peeling shrimp because
He told you it was cheaper to buy it that way.
Tending bar until all hours of the night
Because he said it was cheaper that way.
Worrying about your children
Still in day care while
He was… God knows where.

When he was jailed
For drunk driving
He made you call his office
And lie.

You were still smiling until the day
He refused to stop for gas,
Though you pleaded
The children cried and
The car stalled
On the freeway.

You were stranded.
The needle on the gage
Was on empty and
You knew
It was over.



Eileen Curran-Kondrad is adjunct faculty at Plymouth State University. She has published in NEATE (The Journal of New England Association for Teachers of English), Folded Word, and Red Eft Review.