Memory Mocking

Over and over again she heard it: cougar, robbing the cradle. Hell, the cradle had been rocking for 32 years, it had well and truly been robbed long before her.

She sat opposite him, San Francisco glittered around them. As she regarded him, she saw the shape of the brow bone, the azure of his eyes; the similarity was more than coincidental. She felt the air struck from her lungs. He grabbed her hand, professed love.

In all this time she thought she was reaching for something new, when really it had been someone old, a memory teasing.

2/15/2017

S. Darlington

Advertisements

One thought on “Memory Mocking

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s