two or three years ago, baby girl and i used to hang out downtown quite a bit. she used to spend a lot of time playing with a dog named hippie while his owner, a guy named denver, and i talked. one day denver made baby girl a really cool necklace out of black cord.
we hadn’t seen him in a couple of years, and i’d forgotten about him and hippie and the necklace until baby girl found it the other day. it still fit, and she wore it for the next couple of days.
this morning, i’m looking at my pitiful yard and my pitiful little motor-less mower and wondering how the heck i’m ever going to get it mowed.
a few minutes ago, someone comes to the door with a weedeater, offering to clean up the yard. he looks vaguely familiar, and then he tells me his name. it’s denver-the same denver we used to know. i don’t have any money-wish i did-tell him if i did, i’d love to have him do it. he says let’s call it grace because our paths crossed again, and he’ll do it for nothing.
i gave him my last five dollars and offered him a beer, which he declined, and now i’m wondering how it is that things work out like they do.
i like happy coincidences like this.