Susan von Konsky
Joined April 2021
0 stories
Stories (1/0)
The Color of Wine
The memory of him was like a punch in the arm. She felt it, purple and bruised, the color of good merlot, although it didn’t leave a mark. It was that kind of radiating achiness that wasn’t exactly pleasurable, but she knew it was good for her. She checked messages. Nothing, although he had promised to call. She wondered if he’d follow through. And, then she was sure that he wouldn’t. Of course not. She picked up her phone and checked it again. She was right.
By Susan von Konsky3 years ago in Humans