She took the bus to my birthday party and got lost.
When my mother and I found her, she was standing in a red phone-booth.
“Why didn’t your parent’s bring you?”
“I didn’t ask them.”
My mother was worried. I didn’t care.
Angela was new in school, dusky, pretty and rogue.
She was going to be my best friend.
She invited me to her birthday party in return.
Her house was filled with grown-ups, beer and ninja flicks.
“Who are all these people?”
“I don’t know; my parents have many friends.”
I chased her around the compound, her skirt flapping like a sail.
That’s when I knew she was not mine, and would never be.
She would disappear and then return, hug me as if it were penance.
She left me watching Bruce Lee fight his own reflection.
Word Prompt: sail