Lost in the Rain
rain in late summer
I gave some old stories a little love and polish. Find them here. They are my personal favourites.
rain in late summer
I stare at my winged reflection
I knew I was playing with fire, but since when had that stopped me?
*No one fucks with Eddie.
Legato and Mezzo flew as if their wings were aflame, knocking baskets of gathered berries to the forest floor far below.
Billie winced as she tiptoed across the sun-baked deck with two cold wobbly-pops in hand.
“I would give you the moon, babe.
I closed my book and tossed it aside.
Jack and Jill lay on the hill
Dawn’s dim light glows in the porch windows.
My life will never be the same.
My life will never be the same.