chapter one
“Be careful,” I smirked, as he tried to remember the landmark where we abandoned our sandals. The night folded. It was a storybook on my lap with no need for embellishment. The inflatable pool, the severed tree limbs we used as oars, the still, public lake at moon past midnight and the “No Swimming” sign laughed with us. The scent of adventure in his hair. It was always us who did things like this.
“Careful?” he coughed, my hand a ballet slipper in his baseball mitt grip.
“You might read it in a book someday.”
“Careful?” he coughed, my hand a ballet slipper in his baseball mitt grip.
“You might read it in a book someday.”