Tuesday, July 8, 2014

All the Pretty Little Horses

"The smell of brandy hung in the air in
your bedroom. Light from the front porch gleamed on the white curtains.
The breeze carried in the earth-dry smell of grass. Afraid to wake you
from sleep, I lay down at the foot of the bed next to your feet under the
bedcover. I watched the curtains rise and fall in the breeze, listened to the
dry sounds of autumn leaves on the lawn, and finally no longer feeling the
tugging at my heart, I slept."

Wilderness House Literary Review
Summer 2014

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