Our plan works better than we could have possibly expected. I take up jogging. We get a juicer. The baby is beautiful and quiet and loud sometimes but only in what seems like a well-adjusted way. I identify birds from a considerable distance. I listen to classical music. Some strings. A piano. I am convinced my cell phone is giving me cancer. You wish I would wear more sunscreen. There is a pet shop opening down the street, and we pause at the window for just a moment longer each day. The word for how we’re doing is well. I run at night sometimes. Past the shadows of other runners equally distressed at their limited range of vision, and how strange things start to look after only minimal alterations. Sometimes we wave at one another. Other times, we come dangerously close to collision. But I don’t think they’re dangerous. There’s no reason to think they’re dangerous, or that anyone or anything is any real kind of threat. That’s not how actual threats work, I realize. You’re in bed with some milk and a book on baseball and I tell you I’ve thought of something that seems important: we don’t ever have to worry about anything ever again I tell you. There’s no use. If something is actually a threat, it will threaten us. There will be no question about whether or not it is an actual threat. So, we can give up on worrying. A real threat will announce itself as such. We’ll have so much more free time. You erupt into applause, which does not satisfy on a cold night, in an empty room, with your tiny hands. But I appreciate it, and I tell you so. I’ve been waiting for you to think of something you tell me you’ve had so much energy lately, I’ve been waiting for you to finally find someplace to put it. You finish your milk, the book. You tell me about how all it took to turn the Oakland A’s around was a good idea, and the ability to identify it then follow through.
Colin Winnette is from Denton, Texas. He is the author of Revelation (Mutable Sounds, 2011), Animal Collection (Spork Press, 2012), Fondly (Atticus Books, 2013), Coyote (Les Figues, 2015), and Haints Stay (Two Dollar Radio, 2015).
A portion of Follow Through was published by NAP as the eChap Half of Something
Cover: Grazyna Smalej