Monday, December 21, 2009

Night Drive

I'm sure the view from heaven beats the hell outta mine here.
If we all believe in heaven, maybe we'll make it through one more year down here.
My headlights pierced the darkness, fingers tapping the steering wheel as I impatiently waited for the light to change. 13 Laurel Street my destination, my second home during high school. I had a bottle of Jack riding shot gun, hoping it could numb the pain where my words would surely fail.
My hand lingered on the door handle, unsure I was ready for what awaited me in the house.
Frozen grass crunched beneath my feet. Reaching the front door, I instinctively let myself in.
(Some things never change.)
Her red, blood-shot eyes met mine as I stepped through the doorway...stepping back into a role long forgotten by me, but still mine.
The corner of her mouth lifted in a faint smile when I revealed the bottle of Jack, flashing her my best cheesy smile. And at that moment I knew she...we...would be okay.

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