Modern cut, smooth moves to the music, shiny shoes, challenging glances at the girls. He was fired. Garbage men ought to pick up garbage.
Her hopes held in a letter. Was it salvation or destruction? She slit it open and read ‘Thank-you but’. This small word caused so much pain.
He. She. They. Bliss. Boredom. Betrayal. Court papers. Custody hearings. Canceled visitations. Restraining order. Father’s fury. Shotgun.
When winter comes, the pigeons have gone and only one lover sits. The park is gloomy, the trees are bare — as empty as his heart without her.
He dropped the last box onto the dorm room floor, and watched his parents drive away. He’d never belong in just one place, ever again.
Our 40th class reunion was over. Kisses exchanged like we were teenagers once more, promises to meet made. Promises we knew we’d never keep.