Imagine It

The malt shop was in even worse shape than our previous visit. The explosion rendenered  it unrecognizable. There were bits of glass and debire everywhere. The only thing that was still in tact was the counter and a couple of booths. I found a broom in a closet and went to work. I didn't feel I could be much, if any help, but I wanted to keep busy. After a few minutes Olivia asked me to sit with her at a booth. "Imagine it." She says, molding her hands into a square camera lens while piering out the window. "I'm imagining it." I reply. "Are you?" "I'm trying to. It's just..." "Just what?" "Well, look at this." I say, pointing to the surrounding chaos. "We got this." Olivia says, brushing it off. "It's just there's a lot to do." "Don't worry.  We can handle it." I take a deep breath. " I suppose you're right. Even still we should get to work." I get up to stand. Olivia gently grabs my arm. "In a few minutes. Let's imagine some more."