One sandy couch worn with elbow indents; two stained mugs forgotten on the dusty, glass coffee table; three potted plants besides the windowsill, draped in sheer, tan curtains.

It was home to four, and she was the fifth, a guest.

No matter. Home was in his six feet being. Infinity, was in his arms.

Pg 8



It was one of the hottest days of the summer – cloudless skies admitting the sun’s full rays. But the curtains were down and the blinds were drawn, and she laid sprawled out in the cool room. Inch by inch, she felt her body numb. A wave of drowsiness hit her, and her eyes drooped from what felt like heavy stones tugging at the corners.

But no matter how well she covered the windows or how tightly she closed her eyes, nothing could compare to the immovable darkness that started from the pit of her stomach, swelling into the currents of her mind.

pg 7


Her right temple nested comfortably on his left shoulder. He felt the light trek of her finger tracing the rigid lines of his palm. Situated just like that, they watched the world turn.
A man talking on his phone, a band of kids taunting one another, a couple heading to dinner, and an old soul wearily ambling by. The clouds mirrored the mood – light and soft, patiently making its way to the next destination.

pg 6


The rusty handle gave way and they were greeted by a blast of warm air infused with the scent of moldy wood. A pile of over-turned chairs lay at one corner, and sunlight streamed in through a crack in the grimy window. Their eyes met for a long moment before he shrugged and she rolled up her sleeves.
It was the paradigm spring day and they, were off to rebuild a long-forgotten shed.

pg 5


Silence enveloped the car. Arms folded, she stared out the window. Suddenly, he made a turn and parked the car; they stared at an empty lot. “Can you at least tell me what’s wrong”, he said, hands still gripping the steering wheel. She continued to look out.

Where was the connection they had built after all these years, where a single glance could speak a thousand words?

Only frustration existed now; neither could understand what the other wanted.

pg 4



“I want to go home” she cried. “I miss eating at home. I miss my bed and blankets. I miss hanging out with everyone at the park, and eating ice cream, and making fun of Alan’s lame jokes. … I miss you.” He could hear the sadness in her voice and his heart ached. They were connected by nothing other than the telephone wire he gripped so tightly in his hands.

pg 3


The air buzzed of summer night coolness; the empty road lighted by fluorescent streetlights. He was swinging a stick he had picked up from the ground earlier, and she was humming the catchy melody of the overplayed song on the radio.
She stopped mid-hum. “Remember when you used to be afraid of the dark? That one time we played hide&seek at night and Mo scared you senseless from behind?”
She laughed at the memory. “It took you a whole week before you’d come out with us again”.

pg 2