Skip to content

February 21, 2012

The Wanderer

There was a moment of silence after his phone had finished buzzing on the table, an angry chattering jarring, demanding attention. Demanding his time, demanding that he leave and go back to real things.

He scooped it up and put it into his pocket, looking over her head, looking at nothing in particular, looking at everything but her.

She wanted to seize his face, press it between her palms, make him look at her. Really look at her, for once, the way he never did, the way she’d always wanted him to. She wanted to tell him to not walk out that door, to stay with her for this summer, but for once, words failed her. There were no words good enough to ask him to stay and her pride would not let her speak, even if she could have. It was written all over her face, but he wouldn’t…

View original post 367 more words


From → Uncategorized

Leave a Comment

Leave a Reply Thank You

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: