Wardrobe

He stands up. I barely recognize him. Edward? He turns and sees me but doesn't know me. I remind him that I am the person who laughed at his sock mittens. On this day he looks completely different. No mittens. No parka. Among his wardrobe items are a blue jean jacket and black leather boots. The suit he wore when we first met was unusual he says. He asks if I will be around in a half hour. Yes, I have just arrived. He leaves and later returns to join me for conversation. He moved here, he explains, to be near his parents. They have died so he might go east where he feels more at home where, in his opinion, people are more willing to talk to strangers and where he thinks he might find a job. I tell him that I'm sorry for laughing at his former socks-as-mittens attire. He accepts my apology saying that he felt he was being laughed at. Rather than laugh back, he smiles and notes the pleasure he finds in the brown on brown ensemble that I wear this day.