Denise McDonald Dorman

Love’s Quid Pro Quo

In Uncategorized on June 9, 2016 at 2:41 pm

The words of a friend who, while driving through hell, is stepping on the gas. Hard.

G. Joseph

Noir Man Woman Shadow

The temperature was perfect last night.  The bedroom window was open, allowing an intermittent, gentle breeze to breathe a fresh coolness into the room.  The sound of leaves, rustling outside, like a distant round of applause, rose and ebbed with the moving air.  A cloud front was on its way in from the west, right on schedule, which obscured the brightness of the moon as the late night hours dissolved into the early morning leaving a silent, still blackness over everything.  The smell of the air outside foretold the coming of rain but as of yet, there was none.  Only stillness.  Only dark.

These are the early summer nights when sleep should come, like a shroud, and cover us completely yet, for me, it never came.  I waited.  I listened as the chiming of the grandfather clock downstairs announced the passing of another hour but still sleep eluded me.  As…

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