NOT TO DECIDE IS TO DECIDE

"To make," he said and paused, his gaze
turned from the window to my face,

"a long story short, I'm broke."
His shoulders slumped. He spoke

softly, shifted in his chair.
"If you have something you could share . . .?"
He left the question hanging in the air.

All of it could be a lie I knew
well enough, but suppose it all was true?

He got up and walked away.
I saw the day was cool and gray.