Plot Devices

Even in dreams, scripts can’t always be winners.

 

It feels like someone hasn’t taken the time

To write our lives well –

We wait in the shop we’ve called our home

For the past few days, hearing rumors

That we’ll leave, that we’ll stay, until

The shopkeep tells me

I’ll be staying with him, alone,

Long enough to get to know each other.

I think to myself, this must be because

We haven’t gotten enough

Backstory from him.

But I like his character, so I don’t

Mind keeping here,

Watching him sort tiger’s eye stones

Into a bowl for customers to browse.

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