So New


The risk of a kiss on an autumn night and last to leave the party. Smiles from friends. Tearful eyes. A heartfelt thank you, hugs at the door. He takes her hand.

Trees wild on the drive, colors blown out. They steal a stop sign, the past in their wake. He doesn’t have directions, doesn’t know where he is; ten years, ten long years since he got the worst call of his life. Eight years for her, and a lifetime to believe it’s okay if it takes time to be okay.

The Hazy-Daze Diner. Scent of eight o’clock coffee in the pot. A booth in the corner. A melody on the jukebox. The shiny floor sings, arms rise like wings, fingers thread; the dance. So new.

He tells her it’s good to see the world in curious ways, to fly her bright kite by the sea where she fits in. Step by step, they face their monsters. They see each other.

“Tune in.”

She stares into him.

“No. Closer.” He pulls.

Her hand reaches his hand on her shoulder and she holds it there. “You make me want to do something beautiful.”

And love happens.


Copyright © Kelly Huntson and All rights reserved.


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