Thursday, October 20, 2011

Drabble: Gentle.

There were strange customs at her present lodging. The hosts kept the windows open, never fearing intruders or harm. Cats walked sentry around the perimeter. The stone fences, ineffectual but musical, acoustically enhanced the water brushing the edges. She put her things on the wooden ledge: comb, apple, ring. She ate the apple, a little taste of home. Something extra: candy. How did that get in her bags? Was it a left over from last year? And if she didn’t think of the first time, the first smile, was he lost forever? Savoring sweetness, the taste lingered.

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