The big screen door slapped in the summer wind, and a storm was coming over the Midwest. I went out on the back steps and talked to the cats, we had about 17 of them, and then went inside. I was totally alone and there was no sound, just the tall panes of glass in the old windows of this house which was from roughly 1904.
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Soaking up the rain and whipping spit of the waves, as he stood next to the ocean of my memory, a fire hydrant in a red windbreaker, glaring...
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"Well...that was dramatic." I didn't know what he meant until I saw the ink spilled everywhere and the moths in her hair like ...