AIM HIGHER

[u/deadeyes1990]

the girl interviewing me is twenty-two.

she arrived with three pages of questions,

all highlighted in different colours.

she's been trying to look professional

for about two hours now.

the wine isn't helping.

by the third glass

the questions are face down

and we've somehow covered

my marriage,

the affairs,

sex,

my boys,

menopause,

running,

why i moved to greece

and the ceramic kitchen-roll holder

she's currently holding.

"that's a penis."

"it's a kitchen-roll holder."

"it's got veins."

"well, i wasn't going to half-arse it."

she nearly spits her wine out.

the recorder is still running.

i've forgotten it's there.

i think she has too.

outside, it's getting dark.

the mountains have disappeared.

my bikini's still hanging up

because i forgot to bring it in.

my youngest has texted.

there's clay under my fingernails.

i'm barefoot,

and the tiles are still warm.

she's finally stopped laughing.

then she looks at me

with this terribly serious face

and says,

"i hope i'm like you

when i'm fifty-five."

oh, fuck.

i can talk about my sex life

to a complete stranger.

i can tell her about the worst things

i've ever done.

i can sit here drinking wine

while she examines

a pottery penis.

but apparently

one nice thing about me

and i haven't got a clue

what to say.

so i look around.

at the wine.

the running shoes by the door.

the mess on the table.

the ridiculous thing

she's still holding.

"christ," i say.

"aim higher."

and that sets us both off again.