We waited impatiently for them to come back. We tended those eggs as if they were made in China of inferior materials by underpaid, overworked slaves. When the eggs hatch our lives can begin again. We will wake up fresh and rested, happy and hopeful. we are waiting to be haunted...waiting for ghosts.
He was tired of making excuses He was tired of hearing them. She told stories that came out of her mouth in layers Together they gazed at fun- house mirrors in contorted mistrust She looked up at the stars
He denied their existence and mourned her.