A Love Song for Ricki Wilde

by Tia Williams

Ricki, younger than Rae by fifteen years, was a dandelion. A bloom that looked like a flower but was really a weed: born to erupt into fluff, floating wherever the wind blew.

“To me, love is like listening to an album. Some people skip to their favorite songs and ignore the rest. Other people listen to the entire album over and over, until it’s familiar and cherished and they know every note by heart. That’s how Dr. Bennett and I loved each other. He was music I could listen to forever.”

Ricki realized she hadn’t had a moment to be a proper flaneuse, which was one of her favorite words. It was such a romantic idea, meandering through the city, taking in new sights and sounds while people-watching, solo-dining, and bookstore-browsing with abandon.

“Love well. Eat well. Fuck well. And leave the world better off than you found it. That’s success.”