Just a Few Weeds

Weeds in all their shame- if someone would just tell them they were really wildflowers. And resilient at that.  

 

Ride Or Die

They wrote their singleness off as bad luck and rode into the night on their bikes. The only sturdy frame they could count on.

 

It's All In Your Head, Girl

Some people get lucky, I guess. Their minds hold onto things, important things. Like the capital of West Virginia or where to put a comma. But if yours is more like a lost and found, try and rememeber the significance in that scrap of carpet. 

 

That Was Supposed To Be Funny

They were neighbors but not exactly friends. It’s just that Susan never really understood Linda’s jokes, which made them both feel bad. So they would just talk about the flowers.

Sheets

She makes up stories about their lives in her head. Mostly about full lungs and the smell of laundry. Waiting on her time. The minutes though, they are long when you are counting.  

Another Charade

The only honest thing between them was the sound the snow made under their feet as they walked home. No pretense, no altering- just the purity of the unchanged  sound.