Damien

Over a year ago

I stared up at the ceiling, watching the headlights from the street below chase away the shadows, as various degrees of light and dark danced high above. Turning to my side, I took in the sleeping woman. Her long golden hair fanned behind her head. Her lips were parted. Soft sounds of breathing created a hum.

Our earlier conversation ran on repeat in my head.

Marriage.

Unable to sleep, I ...