still unhappy

i go out to scrape the ice
off the windshield.

then come back in. it takes
almost thirty seconds.

hardly worth the effort, it
would have melted
in the soft
winter sun and wind.

she comes down the stairs and
confronts me.
why didn't you do my car too?

my married boyfriend would have
done it,
but not you?

i go back out, and with my
hand swipe at the melt of ice
on her window, then come back
in.

she's still unhappy. even now.
years later.
still unhappy.

the ice never melts for some.