Through the glass doors and into the museum, my mind kept trying to drift back to school field trips, quite possibly the last and only time I had ever...been to a museum. I remember Mrs. Ferguson walking us in an ordered line through the building, while a guide made comments about what we were seeing. I remember snickering when we walked near paintings that showed people naked and the look she would give us, glasses on the end of her nose, her disapproval clear of our childish lack of. I had brought two for me to use on the way home when I would be alone. She took a couple of minutes to gather herself. I told her that I would get us some water and another beer and some bar food. It was chilly outside this day and I left my coat with my keys on top in front of her. I didn’t know if she noticed. The lines were long and it was about 10 minutes until I got back. She thanked me, but said she needed to use the facilities and said she’d be right back. She left her coat, keys and her. More

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