It’s 10 past 4
A woman steps out the front door
The phone then rings
She hears it as she is
Two steps out from the entrance
She returns to the apartment
Slips off her gloves
Lays them by the stove
Picks up the phone
It is her father
She speaks to him
In an earnest voice
While at the same time
Hurrying him along
To make her appointment
She says her goodbye
Whisks
Out the door
Forgetting her gloves
That lay next to the stove
It’s half past 4
She climbs into her car
Turns on the ignition
Puts on her
Red lipstick
That sat in the ashtray
Checks the mirror for any cars
As well as her lips
Then slowly
She changes gears
And whisks off
Into the busy streets of New York
It’s a long commute to her appointment
But she must go
Slightly distressed over the reason of her departure
She breathes in and out
She glances down at her left bare hand
At the finger
That was once
Enveloped by a beautiful
Princess cut diamond ring
Was no more
She looks longing at the
Bare finger
She felt naked
Without the ring
Defenseless of the world’s perspective
Of her
At that moment
A brief lapse in time
She realizes the missing glove
And unconsciously lifts her hand
And pulls her attention away from the wheel
And in that moment
The car swerves
And a truck that ran parallel
Was crashed into
Her car’s digital clock
Indicated that it is exactly 5 o’clock
She was 5 minutes late for her appointment
A tear
Just one
Left the corner of her eye
As to say goodbye
When the woman
Then noticed in the mirror’s reflection
The impending crash of several other cars
All in harms way
If only she had not heard the call from her father
As she was leaving her apartment
If only she had not left the glove next to the stove
And forgot to retrieve it
If only she had decided
To not put her lipstick on
The should have been on time for her appointment
And not next to the truck
If only she had not glanced down at her hand
Of which a glove should have covered
To block the pain of the past
Of one
Delicate
Pale hand
Tormented
From the world’s ordeals
If only she had not allowed herself
To fall whim to others impositions
Then she would not be in a crashed car
With a tear
Just one tear
Out of the corner of her eye
With a bare hand
And cars waiting impact
If only
And the lights dim in the woman’s eye
And the tear splashes to the floor
And the hand fall perfectly open on the passenger seat
If only
If only
If only