Thursday, October 27, 2005


He used to love to watch her sleep in the car. It was the only time she looked peaceful, and he found it incredibly sexy the way she looked, her hair jumbled up, her pretty face finally relaxed. He could look at her for hours that way, remembering every detail, and trying as hard as he could to commit them to memory. He loved her almost too much.
Till he hit the tree, anyway. He really misses her. That truck, too.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Wiskey bottles and brand new cars-oak tree your in my way.

Ronnie Van Zant

"Sometimes a scream is better than a thesis." Ralph Waldo Emerson