Jacob Lawrence, "The Lovers," 1946
Jacob Lawrence, The Lovers (1946)
Can a Game Be Literature?

Mark's Pages

Brown love seat in a Bay Window, San Francisco Victorian. The woman with the brownest brown eyes in the world, and you, skinny boy, and you're finally alone together after eighteen months slow-dancing through life.

Kisses, kisses. Sweet, sexy. Real. Long time the two of you waited for this moment.

But, no. She's troubled. Tenses, freezes up. Says, "My heart is pounding." That's alright, it's supposed to pound. But after a few minutes, says, "I don't want to hurt my boyfriend right now." Sad skinny boy sleeps alone, alone, alone, alone, alone, alone, alone.

You spend the week together like sister and brother, and when she flies home, she marries her boyfriend, the one she didn't want to hurt.