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Subdivision 

Claudia Cadavid

We are sipping raspberry champagne, while a harpist plays on the lawn, waiting for the procession to begin.

“They would be the perfect couple to live next to in a subdivision,” I say. “In a cul de sac.”

“That’s harsh,” he says. “Can you not? We’re at their wedding.”

“No, I mean it in the best possible way,” I say. “I would want an invitation to their Super Bowl party. It would be the best party in the subdivision.”

“You are just being mean now,” he says.

“I’m dead serious. To the extent I’d ever live in a subdivision, I would want to live next to them.”