Her hand was resting in the curve of my arm, near the elbow. The touch was exactly the same as the touch of a lover's hand should be. But we weren't, aren't, weren't, aren't... I felt an almost irresistible urge to take her hand and place it flat against my chest, near my heart. Maybe I should have done it. I know she would have laughed if I'd done it. So we held the stare.
And the stare is where it stays. For now.
- the above photo is from this morning. I did a runner out of town and went surfing. Should have been writing. Surfing seemed like much more fun.
1 comment:
the runner sounds like a good idea.
that's a lovely picture.
stares a ok
unless you manically try to out-do one another and it all starts to get creepy.
then the stares aren't great.
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