THE MIRACLE

by Mather Schneider

She was 74 and the plastic surgery
made her look like grandma when
she went skydiving.

I was her 36 year old cab driver.
She insisted on the front seat.
She had just returned to Tucson
from summering in Maine
during which she planted
hubby #4.

At a long red light she wondered
if I knew how hard it was
to find a man at her age.

“Most men think you want to get married,”
she said. “I just want to have
a good affair ”

She looked at me with eyes
that never blinked
metallic cheeks
fish-lips pulled toward
her ears
and jowls
like cheese tied with string.

And then
with the deftness of a 50 year old
she reached over
and squeezed my leg.

The miracle was how I avoided
killing the snowbird in the
blue Lexus.