His name was a familiar
ring in my ears. I loved it – I loved how the syllables came in heightening
intrigue. He was a crossword puzzle I liked to finish, every word a rise in the
blood flow, a trickle of sweat down my creased forehead. His name. His name. Every time I heard it the billows
in my head swooned in submission. And his gait, his lovely gait, I mimicked
sometimes, and lost myself to understanding it; his feet moved in haste, yet
graceful still, and I wanted to know if I could catch up and pull him
off-tangent.
#
I am back with a set goal: 100 hundred-word stories before the year ends. Hooray.
0 comments:
Post a Comment