Yesterday

He's sitting in my chair.

He wasn't there yesterday.

He wasn't here at all yesterday.

I think I missed him.

His eyes light up when he sees me.

Or did I imagine?

Now he's looking at his phone,

with one chiding finger held up in the air.

I'm waiting, mesmerized by a smile that wasn't there yesterday.

"Look," he says, as if I could look anywhere else.

He's showing me a picture of a slug.

"Gross."

"Slugs are cool, man."

I step back and grin at this man who would show me a picture of a slug.

I laugh at this man who would even think to take a picture of a slug in the first place.

We look at each other, both still grinning about gross and cool slugs.

This feeling, it wasn't here yesterday.