Photo Story: Marissa
Marissa and Carlos are in love. She told me. She told me she spends more nights at his place than at hers. “I started keeping a spare toothbrush there,” she said. She smiled a little smile that wasn’t meant for me. Swirled the melting ice in her glass at the restaurant table. We were outside, a gleam of sweat across our bodies. She brought the glass to her lips. Met my eyes.
Later, I told Michael I’d be keeping a toothbrush at his place. From the other room: a huff. I turned on the faucet. Cold, like lips on ice.
Photo credit: Jeremy Gordon
amazing. very sad
Wow !!!
This was fantastic. Loved it!
Quite enjoyed it. Very well done. Thank you for sharing!
Nice. have you thought about expanding this? Great insinuations.