Guessing at Felix

Guessing at Felix by Helen Fremont

I know you.  You are going off with a guy named Felix.  Felix is a nice enough guy, as things go these days.  He is not the heroic type, thank goodness.  He has his quirks, which one comes to appreciate after a few drinks.  For one thing, he has almost nothing in the bank, except for a few 78 rpm’s in a safe deposit box.  This is a man who preserves things for the sake of their shape.  He is tall but not too tall.   Something like six feet in slippers, which would be Florentine leather, the easy-on, easy-off type with no tread.  This man does not expect to have to leap hurdles or sprint laps in the middle of the night.  He is self-assured, but not absurdly so.

Published in Phoebe: The George Mason Review, Spring/Summer 1992