I left a scribbled list of regrets on the cracked coffee table, waking up before the eagerness to see you kept me from creeping to the door. We both knew, at least I knew, this day would crawl out of the deep well of a March morning, mourning the memory of your satin skin rubbing to sweet sweat pooling beneath your pale legs. The keys in the fucking door jarred a downpour. Your thunderous lungs rattled off our shared dreams, shaking my chest and lust for what's unwritten. What you knew that I didn't know is I couldn't leave the intoxicating taste of your cherry lips.
(© 2022 AC)
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Death In A Cabin
Short Story(Being edited!) Ben's granddad died last fall and left him the family get-a-way cabin. His father treats him like a loser for not going to business school. His mother turned into an alcoholic after granddad's death. Ben finally had something to cal...
