The Golden Song
The rain had been falling on the siding of the house for three days, a relentless, grey curtain that blurred the edge where the porch met the yard, and I sat in the kitchen with my hand resting on the table, feeling the heat of the mug seep into my palm, watching the water drip from the eaves in a rhythm that matched the slow, heavy beating of my own heart which had not quite recovered from the...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews