The Tuesday call.

Dear you,

My oldest friend and I ran out of things to talk about sometime in February. We had been calling every Tuesday since she moved. Eventually we were reporting what we had eaten for lunch.

One night she said, “I need to fold this laundry. Can you just stay there?” So I did. I washed some dishes. She complained about a missing sock. For half an hour, we barely spoke.

We still call on Tuesdays. Sometimes there is news. Mostly there is laundry. I used to think a good conversation needed a point. I like hearing the drawer close in her kitchen.