Shall we play billiards?
Roger will direct my shots.
Who’s really playing?
We need a dollar.
You can get one at the bar.
Same price as L.A.
One more drink, William.
Make this one in a tall glass;
Diet Coke for me.
Clean break. Balls scatter.
Of course, you got a ball in.
Will I get to play?
Smoke rises. My turn.
What do I do now, Roger?
Easy said, not done.
Lucky shot, I guess.
My skill is not a factor.
My turn is over.
Back and forth we trade
Turns, bright smiles, happy laughter.
The game is over.
Now I must play him?
I’d rather be playing you,
But at least you’re close.
This should not take long.
My inexperience shows.
One more lucky shot.
Eight ball side pocket;
If it goes, the game’s over.
Dammit! My stick slipped.
We continue on.
I should have already left.
One more Diet Coke.
One more game? There’s time.
There is nowhere else to go.
I don’t want to leave.
Leaving means goodbye
And I am not ready yet.
So rack them once more.
I watch while you play.
I want a little more time
To memorize you.
To soak up your lines,
To etch your smile in my head,
Your voice in my brain.
Something to take home;
A souvenir of our night
To remember you.
Why’d you make that shot?
That means it is time to go.
Nothing keeping us.
Two thousand fourteen:
Roger looks forward to it.
William is still lost.
We walk to the truck,
One step closer to leaving,
Closer to good bye.