Word scraps

It’s been a minute since I’ve given you guys any actual writing. Have a pretty word picture.

We were sitting in a mostly empty house, at a little round table not yet claimed by the movers. Afternoon sun came through the window to warm my shoulder. I was naked of soul, doing that thing where I admit my weakness, hoping you’ll love them instead of laugh.
I had been in your former bedroom, mostly unused but still smelling faintly of you. Id stolen your old hoodie, looked for pieces of an old photograph in the detritus left in this space. You’d caught me pressing my face to the sheets, as if I could wrap scent and memory around me for comfort. You said it was time for you to go, and I followed you out into the sun, squinting against the passage of time.

“Sometimes, I just want to smell you,” I said. “I know that sounds so stupid–”

“That’s not stupid.”

I looked up, and the sun motes made it hard to see, the autumn gold hiding your face. I dropped my eyes.

“Normal people say they miss your smile, or just want to hear the sound of your voice…”

You reached over and took my hand, brushing thumb over frightened knuckles, holding wild-bird fingers closed so they could not panic and fly.

Then I awoke.

For more like this, check out my Tumblr, which is its usual mess of disconnected thoughts, but some of them are actually about writing. 😛

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