Her mouth turned up in a most beautiful smile, eyes of sorrow, plumes of autumn fire framing her face. I recognize her in an instant, wanting to reach out and reconnect. But our connection is so strained, searing with pain. The sorrow we share, make the best. Be well.
Locked in and ready to go, the passenger waits for the driver to make his move. In this case, I am waiting, fingers tapping against the armrest. I can feel the heat coming off the back of my neck and try to take some silent deep breaths. The driver looks over to me and I … Continue reading The Car Ride