Tinker Bell tried to convince Peter that there was more to life
than peeking at public displays of affection, the disappointed
voice on an answering machine, or moments of happiness
scheduled for every other Sunday by court order.
She couldn’t stand the sight of him lying under the plastic fir,
whistling carols—for heaven’s sake, it’s June!—and wailing
that he could no longer remember a time when he was fearless.
Who said that one could only forget things that one once had?
Tinker Bell tried to be patient with him—even admitting that
they needed each other—but in the end, it proved too exhausting.
But before she left, she marked on his calendar the end
of mourning—one more arbitrary deadline he would never meet.
hidden pilcrow 