A thin yellow curtain hung in front of the corner window as boney tree limbs tapped on the glass like an unwelcome visitor. Despite the tiny buds on the trees outside, the branch at this particular window was still bare.
Abby SlovinLeaves danced sadly with the wind, waving goodbye.
Abby SlovinIn a brief, surreal moment, she could see the young man he used to be in his smile.
Abby SlovinShe approached the car with a confident stride that implied she had lived on the block her whole life.
Abby SlovinShe didn’t quite know how to translate faces; so she wondered about Jerry, but that’s all she could do.
Abby SlovinThere are no words for the sight of a smiling face.
Abby SlovinHis eyes felt like bathwater; fluid, therapeutic almost.
Abby SlovinLike a palindrome, like the way a perfect day should be.
Abby SlovinShe did not know why the heat felt so heavy in that house, why all of a sudden it felt so much less like warmth than she remembered.
Abby SlovinHis words were rare, full conversations with him even rarer, as if Parker were one of his students that he did not want to indulge with conversation after class.
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