by Sharon Goldberg

I don’t believe in soulmates but if you think I’m yours, great. I clench my teeth when I sleep, so I wear a night guard and get Botox injections to relax my jaw. I do not permit myself to keep peanut butter in the house. If I do, I will consume the entire jar, spoonful by spoonful. For a long time, I thought science might find a way we could live forever. Now that I’m 74, I’ve given up hope. I always apply lipstick, blush, and concealer before going on Zoom. I don’t want to look pale or tired or fossilized. I take very long, very hot showers. I’ve never watched anything on TikTok. I’m in the process of revising my will and advanced directives. If I’m in a terminal state, do I want artificial hydration? What should be done with my cremains? Maybe scatter them at the top of a ski run in Colorado. In Thailand, I rode an elephant. In Australia, a kangaroo tried to steal my ice cream. In Iceland I visited the Elves Museum, Witchcraft Museum, and Penis Museum. On the New York Times game site, I play Wordle, Spelling Bee, and Connections to defer dementia. If we are soul mates does that mean we’ll be together on some spiritual plane when we die? Please convince me. I’m missing two teeth congenitally. No worries, they’ve been replaced. When I was a child, my uncle sent me a baby alligator from Florida. It arrived dead. I tried to revive it in the bathtub but dead is dead. For years, I said a prayer every time I flew on a plane. I stopped praying, but I still sit near an exit. I can no longer reliably walk in shoes with three-inch spiked heels. I’ve kept one pair, luminous silver-gray sandals, in case my balance improves. I’ve watched all nine versions of the reality dating show “Love is Blind,” including Sweden, Brazil, and Japan. You never know who’s out there! I have no children and sometimes wonder if the child-free choice was a mistake; no little ones running to me with hugs or tears. If I’m reincarnated, in my next life I want to be a mom. I’ve never played pickle ball but I appreciate a fully-sour, spicy, kosher dill. I still have wanderlust and want to go everywhere except North Korea, Russia, and countries where I might contract elephantiasis, monkeypox, or dengue fever. Are you game for a Machu Picchu hike? I’d like to travel to Peru before I need a knee replacement. I name my cars. My red Toyota RAV4 was Scarlet. My new Hyundai Tucson is Lotus. She’s white and I’m a “White Lotus” TV series fangirl. The only dead person I’ve ever seen was my mom. I don’t follow soccer, but I was in Argentina in 2022 on the day they won the World Cup. I ran out into the street in El Calafate to celebrate with the locals. Now that was a party! I wonder if I’ll see anything like it again. My 60-year high school class reunion is in three years. If I’m there, you can bet I’ll be dancing.

Sharon Goldberg’s work has appeared in The Gettysburg Review, New Letters, The Louisville Review, Cold Mountain Review, River Teeth, Green Mountains Review, Chicago Quarterly Review, The Southern Indiana Review, The Jellyfish Review, Gargoyle, Best Small Fictions 2022, and elsewhere. Two of her stories were finalists in the Pacific Northwest Writers Association Literary Contest (2011 and 2012), and five of her stories and essays have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. Her website is sharongoldberg.net.