I-will-write-you

I watched as the station slowly disappeared behind me and the lights started to pulsate against the Tunnel walls. This was my fourth train today so I had grown used to the unfamiliar lurch of the Metrolink as it dispatched and as it came to a squeaky stop at the next station. The deeper I got into the heart of LA, the stranger the people became. It was a humbling experience for someone who had been living in a suburb for the majority of her life. There were passengers like me: one day visitors with some foreseeable ending to the adventures on the subway and in the city. But there were some who stomped heavy-footed and red-eyed through the tr

“You know I miss you, here's a little vial of the ocean water here at Venice,” his note read. I sighed as I looked at the artistically crafted vial hanging from a beautiful silver chain. A little bubble intruded in the clear water. Steven came from behind me and kissed me tenderly on my neck. I sighed with comfort. “He's going to come home, you know,” I told him. “And when he goes away, we'll be lovers again,” Steven replied. “What if I left him, Steven?” I asked my lover. “What if I wrote Joshua a letter and told him that I can't be married to him anymore?” “Joshua?” Steven re

I clapped twice, the light turned on. I clapped twice again, the light turned off. I rolled over to touch the empty side of my bed and I bit my lip, I felt tears sting my eyes. I thought that after all I had been through, nothing could hurt as much as becoming a widow, but I was wrong. Terribly, undoubtedly wrong. In all of the world, nothing hurt more than the loss of a child. Nothing felt more painful and wrong. Nothing else seemed like a greater injustice than that. My baby, my one and only baby was gone. I clapped twice, illuminating the empty space to my left. I hadn't touched my baby's spot since she'd  been there, but her imprint

Rain boot(s) __ I held hands with you and jumped into a puddle. You winced as the water soaked through your baggy jeans. I grinned and laughed. “Not all of us are wearing rain boots, Sam.” you said. “Rain boot!” I amended with another chuckle. I lifted my left foot and wiggled my toes, enclosed in a filthy, soaking sock. “Okay, Rain boot” you admitted. “But it's not my fault that you lost your other one, I told you that you shouldn't swim in rain boots.” “I didn't really think the current would be that strong,” I informed you with a matter-of-factly nod. “Besides, now I have an excu