“Are you happy?” she asked, and we were squinting into the sun setting over the river, and in my reflection I could see my shoulders were shiny, and the best I could offer was, “I’m not unhappy.”
Later, T. and I sat in the deepening blue while an evening breeze chased the heat. There was something approaching a quiet happiness.
Later, T. and I sat in the deepening blue while an evening breeze chased the heat. There was something approaching a quiet happiness.


2 Comments:
Who's the wrong boy? did you get my email? or have you changed your email address?
Well I dunno, smarty. Who are you? :-P
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