The Moment We Became Us
I see her walking toward me, back-lit—her image broken by the hand-bar that intersects the middle of the glass door. When our eyes lock, her face smiles tenderly and she is drawn to my side; first touching my yellow bow, and then stroking my arm.
The Quiet Goodbye
A cool, dim, and quiet still blankets the room. A lone street light peers in through the slightly open slats of the blinds, casting light and shadows in parallel lines.