“Christ what a long story,” thought Mike silently as he decided never to call this pretty, dull girl again.
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“Christ what a long story,” thought Mike silently as he decided never to call this pretty, dull girl again.
Amy felt them wiggle; ripping at her insides. Doctors examined, but found nothing. With her knife, she began digging them out herself.
Pearl in a boy’s hand, unable to let go of that part of her that rolled towards him, a woman, who one day will forget her broken necklace.
She lets him in. But the conversation is somber and she is guarded, not because the man is a stranger, but because he is not.
“Oh Lord,” she sighed. I am still not sure if she really was a believer. It doesn’t matter. For one short moment we were in heaven. Together.
The pull to go is always with her—the need for another adventure. But still, her suitcase is battered and heavy with regret at all the goodbyes in her life.