Ephemera
Life in Mist
She dresses for the weather.
The canopy of clouds only depicts immaturity. She is sure – it is a lonely picture if she were to frame the world outside.
As she opens the door from the darkness of her room, the mood settles. She remembers her mother pinning clothes fresh from washing.
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Cheesecake, Beefcake, and Dear Old Clara
I caught her taking a swig out of the orange juice tetra pack. There was a steady stream about her cheek.
A clownish commotion in the living room was taking the spotlight. That was where I left Cheesecake and Beefcake. They were the cheeky aunties of dear old Clara. You noticed her when she came in just right after me, didn’t you? There were bright drip-drops on her fleece-white polo shirt.
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Yesterday’s Silence
I was locked to read your eyes like an old Latin prayer book. Only the punctuations I had understood; and the blessing of your apparition. Only this pillow set us apart like a mountain that bid only signals to commune; but I was able to caress your hand.
How time crawled. The day brightened, it shed. We were still, unmoving position of mind game dancing. You were the only one playing.
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