The wind tore her jacket's hood back and I could see her face for a snapping second. Her cheeks were bright with a flush of vitae and her eyes were dull with tears. The changeable wind slammed back and the hood guillotined my gaze.
I moved as if to follow her, but I couldn't bring myself to fall forward into the first awkward step. She crunched through the snow ever farther away from me until all I could see was a cherry point of coat in the woods. I brought her back to my imagination because I couldn't stand to be apart, and followed my ghostly companion down our double path from where her single led off to better careers and richer soils.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
That is sad. Why can the author follow in dreams but not reality?
ReplyDeleteI suppose she wanted it that way?
I think they were breaking up.
ReplyDelete