Sunday Silence
When the storms have stilled
Legs stretched across the couch, I wiggle my toes just enough to tell him I need his touch. He feels my foot twitch and, without looking up from the phone in his left hand, his right encloses warmly around my toes. A light squeeze. Reassurance. I sigh. We rest in the silence between us, thankful for a break from the chaos of life. The dog on my lap shifts, and I take a sip of my coffee. It is full of a relaxing depth that can only be found in this singular moment, a Sunday morning in sweet silence.
About the Creator
AnaRosa Cruz
creative writer, martial artist, obfuscation, goblin, rock hound. New to poetry, but having fun just letting my brain spill onto the page.
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Vale Perficientur
"My tears need a minute to find the edges of my face. If you'll please excuse me." The sarcasm stabbed into Juliana’s heart. Antonia glared at her from the pit of the Lyceum as her student fought to hold back tears that had nothing to do with the pain in her fingers. “You’re better than this, again.”
By Matthew Fromm4 days ago in Fiction
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