Love.
That's the only emotion I feel as Jeremy wraps his arm around my neck, kissing my forehead.
I love him, he loves me.
He's amazing.
I feel amazing.
True love is a flawless thing. It is.
How does it get better than this?
It doesn't, and that's true love.
"Let's go for a walk," I said. "I have eaten the salami and now I have strength and you girls need to find sex partners so you will not be frustrated by your inability to satisfy your sexual needs."
"Yes," one girl said. "Let us go for a walk."
And so we went for a walk. Here is how we walked. We put one foot in front of the other. We kept doing this and eventually, we covered distance. I was wearing boots. The girls were still naked so they were in bare feet. I looked at their bellies, which...
There once was a woman from Kenya
Who grew a voracious gardenia
A plant that ate men
With a touch of cayenne
That the woman decided to send ya
I awoke, pissed, the activity, not the feeling, took a shower, got dressed, made coffee, drank the coffee, fed the dog, the fish, the cat, watered the plants, left a note for the cleaning people, heard a story on NPR that made me think of you, began to write a poem about the us we were, before we became the non-us, still it felt good to think of you, your smile, shoes, the way you opened your eyes after they were closed in the aftermath of our coupling, when we were a couple, it turned me on, I went back...
I was going to tell her the truth...honesty is always the best policy...right? But then I wasn't ready just yet. What would she think? How would she react? Would anything ever be the same?
"No. I can't tell her." I muttered quietly to myself. I hunched over another inch on my bar stool. I was alone although surrounded by patrons at the hotel called The Silent Sleeper's pub. The TV roared football overhead. I could hardley notice anything else in the room but the grain of the wood on the wooden bar counter in front of me, as I grew...
I just stepped off the train, and the heat is unbearable. Before I left my apartment, it was already at 90. That was at 5:45 this morning.
Now, it is the end of the day, and I am stopping to grab a drink with a friend. They are visiting the city, so I have meet them up in a place I normally don't go to. Well, except for work.
The heat is so intense, taking the train was easier than walking. I would normally walk but this would have been too much of an exercise.
Michael Phelps would have been...
There was a knock at the door. It was Theo, the kid from next door. He was only seven. Wearing nothing but blue jean shorts. Scabs on his knees. Feet filthy. Skinny as a broom. Darn kid probably hadn't eaten since Tuesday.
"You busy?" he asks.
"Kinda," I say, and hold up my crocheting.
Theo looks at the ground then back up at me. "Thing is, I'm hungry and I don't know where mom is."
I sigh. This happens all the time. I back up and let Theo march past me into the kitchen. I thought he was going to...
"You know," Clark said, in-between rising above the water to take breaths as he swam. "I really hate you."
John shrugged; or, at least, performed as much as a shrug as you can while swimming. "I don't see why."
"What do you mean, you don't see why?"
"We're doing what I said we'd do, right? Go for a swim together. You were all uppity about the whole thing, so I challenged you to do one length of the pool with me. Well, here we are, doing one length."
"Yes, but you didn't tell me that we were going to be...
The day it burned down my mother locked herself in her room and wouldn't take any visitors.
"Mom, come out of there!" my little sister whined and cried for her.
"No!" "It's not fair, it's not right!" "This didn't happen, it couldn't have!"
Her memories of him, that Winter in 1973 where they sat on the front steps of the chapel and watched bikes and cars drive by... The day they got married; January 19, 1973. When they blew off the after-wedding limo to watch the snow fall, later to hitchhike to their own reception.
It was just like her,...
She didn't look at him. She felt her cheeks burning but refused to look up, even when Jenny nudged her side. She felt his eyes boring on her.
"Excuse me, what would you like to order?" He repeated. She dared to look up but still avoided eye contact. Instead, she looked at his lips. His perfect lips.
"Small Coke and fries." She practically whispered. Jenny repeated the order, louder.
"Alright, Small fries and a Coke. And for you?" He was gazing at Jenny, not that she would have noticed. She had become mesmorised by his lips. The way his deep...