stories to tell

 in a darkened basement a simple plant; a pretty pretty leaf perched on a chair. sight unseen nor sounds heard yet i simply can't help but dream of your face beautiful and fair.

  I bought this card. Wrote a heartfelt apology. Then I didn’t deliver it. Not because I didn’t want to apologize anymore but because I believe I didn’t need to anymore. I think the awkwardness of the apology would be a worse offense to them than not apologizing. So I left it at that. Still, the card was pretty and I liked it so here it is.  I am definitely an overdramatic person. 

 She stood with her back to the ocean, her toes slowly sinking in the sand. Her sun dyed hair danced all around her, seemingly transitioning from wavy to curly. Sometimes little wisps would stick to her cheeks and she would remove them with care as she was already feeling the pain of a little sunburn. Her mind wandered to her youth, when she waited for her dad to pick her up from summer camp. The day had been hot, too hot. It was hard to distinguish between sweat and the salty ocean that lingered in her skin still. She knew the day was ending but felt comfortably paralyzed, in a place between the ocean and the earth. Embraced in a worldly blanket.  She smiled as the satisfaction of the lazy day rumbled through her body. Her mind was moving slowly and lazily. Her shoulders were relaxed and heavy, tanned and firm from all the early morning swims. Her hands soft from playing with the sand, making silly castles and moats. Her belly was patterned with tan lines from different swims...