The skin split under her nail as Sam fidgeted on the bench. Her book lay on the waistband of her skirt. The pages curled naturally into her stomach, stains and damp spots wrinkled like freckles. It was an old favourite but the cover was irritating her. It was a girl, unremarkable but for her mouth that was barely open. Sam had picked the book for its cover, for that mouth. She heard the parting of lips across the bookshelves and when the spine slotted into her grasp she knew it had to be purchased. But the words were gratingly familiar so her belly button learnt the characters names for a change. Ash crumbled into the fading cotton of her tshirt from the cigarette that shrank in the corner of her mouth as she ran a nail over the dead skin on her thumb. A spot of blood ballooned to the surface and trickled into the probing cuticle. Sam replaced cigarette with cut and ground the butt into the ground with the rest of the packet. Rusty stinging faded against her tongue and her lidded eyes gave in to the bright sun with a sigh. A shudder ran the length of her body as a shadow leaned over the back of the bench. Her feet curled until a shoe tumbled off her toes. Dean planted a kiss on her cheek.
“You’ve been smoking?”
“You’re late.”
0 Responses to “Was a bright, and sweet, and hot summer day the day I didn’t love you anymore”