The Last Slice of the Last Pie
We climbed the stairs to the Highline and found the closest place to sit: a bleacher-style overlook on to 10th Avenue. We had left Juli behind to take care of business. She does a brisk business selling man-eating alligators and sharks. I felt a little bad leaving her behind.
“You trust us to save you a piece, right?”
“I should think so!” She said.
So here we were, Michele, Marco, Kanishka and I, gossiping about the invention of the internet. I was teasing Marco for being so grumpy that he almost grumped himself out of pie. But here we were eating pie together after all (even Marco) while teenage tourists stepped about us with their selfie sticks.
I had the presence of mind to stash a slice for Juli before we passed the pie around for seconds (we almost forgot).
This is the last morsel of my last slice of pie.
Juli ate hers standing among her colorful creatures, having a private moment right there in front of everyone. Then the very last piece of pie was gone.