Get Away

Spring rolled through like bruised apples; the house still smells like Winter. Somewhere is a missed opportunity. Summer is turning into hot pumpkin lattes. No one gives a cent because someone is hoarding coins—yadda, yadda, yadda, dum-dum diddy. We lost our getaway, our annual moment of jubilee.


He saw her face again, under a different circumstance; memories still lingering within the fragrance. What they had was but a diversion; the acquaintance of familiarity at a fork in the road. Their attraction was the means for her mental distraction from the cuts and abrasions inflicted by so much broken glass. The prick of affection; … Continue reading Interim