My room would hum when the garage opened
Which meant that dad was home from work.
My little feet would scurry across patched up hard-wood floors
And I would dart into a cabinet for him to find me.
When the light streamed in from the door,
I would smell the scent of his scrubs,
And the prickles on his face when he hugged and kissed me.
Then I would laugh and run away
So he could find me again.
The candlelight shone off the colored glass of the bottles that lined the shelves, flickering and illuminating the old, faded labels. Lightning of a summer storm. Winter wind. Time (1 yr). “Sir?” The
He’s waited for such a very long time. For as far back as he can remember, he’s known of his task—to protect his king even if it costs him his life. And his master was a kind one, always making sure t
I feel the cusp of unformed emotions bubbling up in my throat. They threaten to spill out at inopportune moments. A throwaway phrase, a hand gesture that is more forceful than it needs to be. Like the
