KathyJeffords
It seemed like I was always waiting on the bus. The bus to work. The bus back home. The bus to go see Tyler. The bus bringing Tyler to come see me. It wasn't the waiting that bothered me; it was the knowing that one day soon, the buses would stop coming.
All I can think about is, when standing in the aisle at the grocery store, facing the salted and unsalted butter...I could never remember which you prefer. So I got both, because I didn't want to argue over that, or the fact that I once again had forgotten to charge my cell so I couldn't just call and ask you.
"Do you want to go to the market with me?" she asked. I said no. There, she met the man of her dreams, a farmer who could provide her with endless fresh peaches. To this day, the smell of any kind of produce makes me kind of nauseous.
writing since 2016 · 4 entries · 4 days shown up
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the words KathyJeffords reaches for
busstepwaitingtylertowersloomedaheadforestgiantlimblesstreessteeldeepbreathheadingtowards