The autobiography of a woman; by Waldorfia
Alex did not show up for the remainder of that week’s classes. Strangely I did not miss him. My need for being noticed had been sated. Much later I had a consultation services contract with the corporation that Alex worked for. I was secretly hoping to reestablish contact with him. I casually mentioned to someone that Alex had attended one of my classes. Those rides on the yellow motorcycle were exciting.
My subtle questions about Alex brought answers that I wished I had not heard. He had left a wife and two children behind when he shot himself. The suicide occurred shortly after Alex’s return from Philadelphia.
I felt so guilty that I spent the week hiding in my hotel room.