Slant Tales

I remember picking up my guitar after learning he liked to play, conspiring with the music teacher to perform a duet at the school recital–sitting side by side on the cold aluminum risers, neither of us singing the words but tracking the chorus and verses in our heads, nodding to each other with every change; it’s the only song I still know by heart: all minor chords and words with no underlying significance; and I still find myself relearning old skills, sometimes even picking up new ones, hoping for the chance to sit beside him again, playing together in practiced unison, our bodies turned just slightly toward each other.