It's the one-month anniversary.
I call Mark
and before I can even say anything
he whispers
"I know."
I grab the teapot
and Jim photos
and broken pencils
and hot sauce packets
and inside jokes
and throw them into his brown messenger bag.
Mark smiles when he opens the door
and I hand him the case
of cheap beer.
We drink
and remember,
laughing at how he always
always always knew what to say
that was completely deadpan
and hopelessly hilarious.
It doesn't take long
for us to go to Youtube
and search
"Jim's pranks on Dwight".
Soon we are crying
both of us
holding each other
and shaking
because God
he was amazing.
I stand up shakily
and press 'play'
on the CD player
so we can listen
to "The Hunted"
for the tenth time.
Complete soon. Even though I enjoyed this more than I expected to.