The Crossword We Never Finished
Fourteen across is still empty. I've known the answer for months. I won't write it in.
It's almost three and I'm at the kitchen counter again, not eating, just standing here. The Sunday crossword is still under the fruit bowl where we left it. You did the across clues in pen, which always annoyed me, and I did the down ones in pencil so I could change my mind.
We got to fourteen across and then you got up to make tea, and we started talking about something else, and we never came back to it. The square is empty. The clue is small ceremony, six letters. I've known the answer for months now, but I won't write it in. It feels like if I leave it blank, we just haven't finished yet.
I keep the fruit bowl there so I don't have to move the paper. The bananas go bad and I throw them out and buy more. I'm not sure who I'm keeping it for. I tell myself I'll recycle it eventually. Tonight isn't eventually.
Did this one stay with you?
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