I’m at a reception for a well-known writer. I’ve paid to attend this reception, and I’ve circled around the noted writer, not daring to approach her, yet daring myself to do so. Finally, a young poet to whom I’ve spoken earlier in the day, strolls up to me. “Shall we?” she asks, and I nod. “It’s easier to do as a pair, I say. “ So we ease up to the writer, waiting for the other adoring ones to fall away, and for her to turn to us.
I hold out my hand. “I’m not very good at meeting famous people,” I say. And before another word, another glance passes, she says, “Can I tell you that you have a piece of something in your teeth?”
“Yes, of course,” I respond, and swish my tongue throughout my mouth, feeling the lettuce bit slip away. I swallow and smile again. “Gone?” I ask.
She nods and turns to the ravishing young woman, the promising poet with whom I had approached her, the one without the crud in her mouth, and I step away.
Molly Seale holds an MFA in Theatre from The University of Texas, Austin and was the recipient of a Fulbright-Hays in the Performing Arts to the former Soviet Union. She was also awarded a grant from the Witter Bynner Foundation to translate from Russian to English the poems of Korney Chukovsky and adapt them to the stage. She now lives in Makanda, Illinois where she is a passionate writer of plays, poems, fiction, and nonfiction. Most recently, she has taught in the University Honors Program at Southern Illinois University. Her most recent essay, "Extraordinary Time," was published in ON OUR OWN, a compilation of poems and pieces about widowhood.