Writing Haven
The car cracked and creaked, cooling after a full day of driving through the desert. How strange the way your face fades from my memories of that particular rest stop, that evening, that moment. Just the sounds of the car settling into the desert silence remains clear to me after all these years. That and…
He has a hickey on his neck and I didn’t put it there. He makes almost imperceptible twitching movements in his presleep vulnerability, with a hickey on his neck. Whoever put that mark on his pink and white freckled neck must know we are preparing to separate and she is getting nervy. “Oh what the…
The red light lit the cold room in irregular blinks, filling it with an erratic electric heartbeat. Noises from the street filtered in the partly opened window, kept in place by an ancient beer can, a brand of beer no longer made or sold in the city, Burgermeister Beer. Mom used to drink “Burgie” with her…