“You should plant those little pots of basil and parsley they sell in supermarkets. You know, stuff that has grown already.” I suggest, touching the fabric of a pair of trousers I haven’t worn in a while.
Tag: Word of the day
“You want to come?” It’s the sudden question Lennard posits me while chopping some leek.
“I… where?” I take time, even if I’ve understood what he means.
“To the new year’s party. Unless you have other plans” Zeke intromits. Bastard.
Lennard is looking at me. He knows I don’t have other plans.
She scoured her whole denim dress, to understand where the unbearable itching was coming from.
Theresa thought she had no time for that, so she just smiled.
I was alone; yet safe.
That’s what I thought until the noise of something moving in the bushes reached my ears.
Someone, as I detected cadenced footsteps.
(Excerpt from a soon to be published short story)
His inwardness exasperated her, his disorganization made her vent in hours-long phone calls while the listener stirred on a chicken soup – i.e., her mother living in Long Island.
But every time she heard him sliding under the duvet at night, trying not to wake her up even if he still smelled like walnuts and pecans, she knew there was nothing she wouldn’t do for him.
Remember warm lines,
Lapping over the sunlight,
Mother’s hands disclose.
Photo by Cecile Hournau on Unsplash
To Camille, there were two types of people: those who sat slovenly on the sunny side of the bench and those who squeezed under the shade of the tree.