Sorry, Honey

“Sorry, Honey.”

We were passing through the same mini-mart door in opposite directions.

She was coming fast with her head down, but looked up to see me, and with a warm, Italian-American voice, she said “Sorry, Honey.”

She just reached out with her words to be nice to someone else.

Warm and compassionate, present and graceful, I loved that voice.

It’s the voice that I want, that instant and instinctive, womanly and effusive.

It’s that voice that I need, not the timid little hiding voice I too often use.

I need to be able to let myself touch others without hesitation or trepidation, without fear.

Speak up, speak out, speak.

Sorry, Honey.

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