Twigs

For the past few years their sheets remained straight when he tried to court her. When did you get that perfume? he’d say but she wasn’t wearing any or maybe she was and she didn’t know it. Mornings, she was quiet, swaying in the wind of their living room. Hey did you fly away? he’d say. Only once did she hear him. That day, a nurse came in a car. Mostly, she remembered how his eyes were the color of marbles. She held that idea in her mind like a twig as he hunted around for her suitcase and slippers.

Photo Credit: Judy Dean