Our lake house rests in the tucked-away town of Lake Chelan, Washington: I lit a match, setting her name on fire like a narcissist resting on the hillside of a slippery slope as ashes hover above her smokey eyes, tears stream her cheeks.
A penny for her thoughts and two cents for whispers of little nothings escape her lips without a detected lie, pushing karma through her cherry red lips. She wrote her name on my heart: a tattoo. It's permanent.
Fights and shouts bring names to shame. Sticks and stones flow from her tongue to my name, cutting me to shreds of an erased persona. Thunderous shouts tossed in Lake Chelan illuminated her slumped shoulders and hands folded as if to pray as if to beg brought me back to faith. The faith within my bones that everything would clasp our bodies together, tangled by our names in bedsheets.
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Dusting Off DreamsRomance
Hannah's grandmother passed away, and while boxing her belongings in the attic, she notices a journal about her grandmother's life and her short stories. Hannah realizes her grandmother understood what she was going through. Margo feels horrible for...