Page 86 of Happy Endings

Why did you drag me to open-mic night?” Andre was not in the mood to deal with Xavier’s antics. He didn’t know how to answer Trixie’s texts, but now they’d stopped. Then there was tomorrow’s tenant meeting with their new landlord.

“Because you owe me.” Xavier handed him a pint of DC Brau pilsner. “Remember when I borrowed the chairs for last week’s dinner?”

“Sorry, man.” He’d forgotten. At least the coffee shop served beer. “I have a lot on my mind right now.”

“I noticed. You want to talk about it or nah?” Xavier took a swig of his beer. “Hold that. Crap, I’m next.”

Xavier set his beer down and dried his hands on his jeans. His best friend’s swagger was replaced with nervousness.

“Xay, you’ve got this. Your poems are good.” His friend didn’t show him a lot of his work, but the ones Andre had seen were decent.

Xavier nodded and pulled out his phone. “We’re finishing this conversation when I’m done.”

His friend sauntered up to the small platform that served as a stage. Xavier pushed the stool aside and claimed the mic. He cleared his throat and tapped on his phone.

“Hi, I’m Xavier, and I’m reading one of my poems tonight.”

The crowd clapped politely, except for Andre, who cheered for his friend.

I deliver packages for a living.

That’s not a euphemism,

But if anyone’s looking for a sugar baby, hit me up.

Someone whistled. Xavier winked at the crowd.

I deliver packages for a living.

Boxes of all shapes and sizes.

Every time I walk up to the door,

I wonder,

Is this the box that will change their life forever?

Will they open the door with a smile?

Or tap their toes impatiently because

I stopped too long

To pet Pumpkin, the chihuahua

Who greets me when I drop boxes off

At the brownstone off H Street?

I deliver packages for a living.

They’re not just pieces of cardboard

Filled with stuff.

They’re some folks’ link to the outside world,

The folks who are too sick to leave their home,

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