Paul, being her lover, tried, with his voice, to rouse her. She'd liked his voice. But not so much now it seemed. He spoke her name with a frog in his throat. We giggled. Sally did nothing. Then he was nose to the carpet, ear next to her's. He stroked her hair. He spoke her … Continue reading Twice (For Some Reason).
She sat at the kitchen table with a wine glass and all the what ifs, what weres and what could’ve beens floated in the glass and the bread began to rise. She thought about the summer of 1956. But actually it was difficult to picture much more than a blur of an album of photographs. … Continue reading The knowledge of now.
He left the house one evening and walked the coast road toward Weston. Occasionally he would hear a vehicle in the distance and as the sound grew closer he would stand at the roadside, raking his hair, straightening his coat, waiting its appearance. And as it drew near, he'd snap out a thumb and with … Continue reading Funky Town.
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