
SITTING ALONE by D.T. ROBBINS
I had a dream about you. I sat in a pew that only had enough room for two people. Its red velvet had faded, its wooden frame splintered. Someone played piano, sang a song for you, about you. The congregation sent up a crescendo of angel voices, enveloping the atmosphere, like a child wrapped around her father’s leg. And me? I lost it. I bawled, wailed. I’d saved that seat next to me for you, but you never came. The dream-song, a melody I’d never heard before, stayed in my ears after I woke. I considered whether or not…