By Mark Fleckenstein

They met in the library. He knocked a book off the shelf which fell on her foot. After an embarrassed apology and shy introductions, they studied at the same table. Attempted small talk. Ended up locked inside the library and made love on the study table before calling security to let them out.  She graduated in spring. They married in the fall, a year they’d met.

The baby died suddenly after the birth. They separated, then divorced 6 months later. They still exchange holiday cards, infrequent telephone calls and letters.  He no longer remembers why they divorced, and she, how they met. The baby still rests between them. 

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Five states, a B.A. in English and MFA in Writing later, Mark Fleckenstein settled in Massachusetts. Twice nominated for a Pushcart Prize, he’s published seven full-length books of poetry and three chapbooks.