Winter 2018 - Vol. 15, Issue 1

I’m drinking sangria from a light plastic cup, sitting by the half-opened window with Ruby. She always brings the sangria. She’s just paraplegic, so her arms are stronger than mine. She’s joined some dating site, but the response has been nothing at all like she wanted.

We take pics. One selfie, taken forty times, until she achieves that unconcerned vibe she wants. One black and white photo, pretentious and dramatic. It captures everything about Ruby. We edit her profile. I ask, how is Churchill relevant to your life? She says, BrainyQuote’s a goldmine.

We choose five guys for her to message. I know her taste, and she doesn’t ask about mine. I ask if she’s nervous, afraid of rejection. She says she got tired of just waiting and wanting. She’s being proactive. Like Churchill, I say, because sometimes you’ve got to make fun of Ruby.
 

I want Ruby to be mine.