Memories climbed the walls, looking down with curious eyes from corners and cabinet tops. Doorways we'd never walk through shuddered. We were standing in the kitchen, and it was the last time. We were close together, and more distant than we had ever been. Unspoken words drifted through the silent space between us. "Well, here we are." He was looking at me. He'd never look that way again. I stared back, memorizing the shape of his nose and the shadows of his eyelashes. Our embrace lingered in acknowledgement of history. "Well, I should go." I walked him to the door.
Maria Burns writes things, and sometimes people read them. She has a BA and an MFA, but no one gives AF. She never gives up. Twitter @mariaelizabee