In the mornings, I avoided the thought, when I woke on the warm side of a bed and later, as the dog scratched at the door. Breakfast, he begged. God damn – take a breath Juno, we moaned back, our faces pressed into pillows. The familiarity of our life – I wanted to preserve. To... Continue Reading →
I just want to know, I said that night, siting on a bench under a street lamp. All these years, and did I leave you with anything? I asked. Did I leave a mark, so when you do this thing you'll forever think "there was this girl, one time, she showed me how to do... Continue Reading →
It was 2 in the morning, and though the wine pulled at my eyelids, I sat there still, in your parents living room: Thinking, perhaps, the night could still change. It was March, 2013, your sister's 18th birthday. You and I would be 23, together, the following month - when she begged me to visit.... Continue Reading →
We're in your car. And when you nod towards the right, I follow. You remember that time at the airport? When you still lived in Seville? I smile. There it is, over there, you point. The airport. I noticed a plane go over earlier. Thought it might be. You nod. Yeah. You know, I don’t... Continue Reading →
Lindsey Hall Writes 