myrna julie payne I feel guilty when I mow the grass. It starts when I pull the cord. By the time I get around back to the apple tree it's the only feeling there is. Myrna was popular in high school. It didn't matter she had a stupid name, she had a great ass. She looked good in a cheerleading outfit. She put out. I didn't. I had big hair and big glasses. I spoke Latin for fun. People didn't know my name. When I mow the front yard I think of Myrna at the pool. She's walking to the concession stand. The sun shines on her hair. It is black and wet. She wears a black two piece. Her tummy is tan. When I mow the side yard, by the peonies, Myrna looks at me. She laughs. I look down and my bathing suit top is floating on the water. My asymmetry is showing. By the time I get to the little flat part toward the back where the new grill sits, I'm thinking about how I bought this house. How my daughter, with her perfect skin introduced herself to the neighbors when we first moved in. How they turned out to be Myrna's parents. The other side of the house has a little hill. In between moments of concentration so I don't run my feet over with the mower I think about the first time I saw Myrna come to visit her parents. I was mowing the part between the sidewalk and the street that always seems to grow faster than the rest of the yard. Her handsome husband got out of the car and left her sitting there with the kids. The little grass alley between the elms is when I think of her two squealing boys leaving her behind to get inside Grandma's house. How Myrna got out of her car, slow, like a leopard, and walked around to the rear passenger door. When I get to the little patch by the recycling bin I try not to think about Myrna. I try to think about how I need to build a garage on that spot and trim the tree. I try to think about buying a new rake. Then there is the largest part of the yard. I save it for last. I go inside and feel the air conditioning for a while. Drink some water. Put my hair up. The last part takes the longest. You have to go in a circle, from the outside in. I start on the right and go counter-clockwise. By the time I get to the seven the first time around Myrna is in my head again. She unbuckles a car seat. She still has a great ass. The little girl looks over Myrna's shoulder at me. She smiles. I continue to mow in my counter-clockwise circle because that is how it is done. The little girl waves at me. I wave back. She has blonde hair and brown eyes, like my girl. My girl doesn't have a three dimensional birthmark on her cheek, though. Not a purple one, the size of a plum. By the time I get to the apple tree I'm thinking of Myrna turning to see me wave at her daughter. About how Myrna tried to smile but didn't really. About how she walked in the house with her hand on her little girl's cheek. Light, like a silk scarf.