Assignment 12

This was supposed to be a poem telling a true story in ordinary language:
                   Fate
I think of that night a lot;
Mostly in flashes.
The scene of us at that table bursts into my mind,
Illuminated by the spotlight I shine retrospectively.
I was sick that day—
Sick enough that I almost skipped one of my jobs,
But didn’t.
I got home, exhausted, and saw his message.
An old friend,
Old flame,
Old fling.
He was back in town,
And I dragged myself to the bar,
Through the sharp December night.
Worrying that I didn’t look pretty enough,
Wondering how I would feel to see him again.
The bar was dark and shadowy,
And he had brought a friend.
We spent time catching up,
Eagerly talking, almost flirting—
His charm sliding off me like oversized clothes.
My attention turned to his friend,
And time stopped.
He was real, and smart, and solid.
Tall, blonde—
My husband.