He came up behind her while she stood at the stove, slipped his arms around her waist. He’d touched her before; a hand on her back as she entered a room or helping her from the car. This was different. He was claiming the space between them. She turned to face him and his arms …
A first kiss. Sunshine on fresh snow. Letters in the sand. The feel of grass between toes. Standing chest to chest. Cheek to cheek. Pressing lips on lips and inhaling each other. Perfect skipping stones. A gentle breeze. Autumn leaves crunching beneath feet. The touch of a hand. The feel of skin on skin. A …
Maybe the door had always been open and he just hasn’t been paying attention. She’d offered to make breakfast, so she’d probably comeBrown earlier and gotten started and then realized they were out of something snd had gone out to get it. He shot her a text and let her know to grab orange juice …
“We will fuck exactly three times,” she said. “The first time, that’s for you. You’ll do what you need and take me until you’re good and done taking.” As she spoke she crossed over to where he sat, hiking her skirt up to straddle his lap. “The second time will be for me. You will …
the goddamn door is back. I’ve written about this mother fucker seventeen ways from Sunday trying to purge it from my stories. I’ve burned it, drowned it, built it, torn it off its hinges with hatchets and bare hands, buried it, carved it and ignored it. It creeps in and sooner or later each of …
….all the time, every day. In fact, I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s ridiculous. Crazy. Sad. I’m not what you need or want; you’ve made that abundantly clear and I’m not writing this hoping you’ll suddenly wake up and see how much better we are together than apart. This past year proves how irresponsible …
Bountiful Words, Beautiful World 