The music was loud, heavy enough to blur every word. I could not hear the conversations, only see them. A hand brushing another’s shoulder. A face breaking into laughter. Heads leaning together in the dim light. Gestures spoke louder than any words I might have caught. I was standing
I called for the sun and he came. He slipped in without ceremony, the way he always does, quiet at the curtain's edge before committing to the room. Dust rose to greet him, floating in evidence of all the days that had passed undisturbed. He cast his theatrical
The first day of high school has a smell. Sweat trapped under polyester. Stale chalk. Damp earth from the field out back, dragged in on shoes. The metal tang of the gate, rubbed into everybody’s palms as we filed through with our bags tight to our chests, like the