Slumber

Lost somewhere between sleep and waking, she turned toward the weight newly settled on the far side of the bed, reaching out a hand toward the warmth she knew would be there. His mere presence brought with it the security needed for her release into that place of absolute rest and escape. She scooted close, settling into the crrok of an arm that fit her shape perfectly. For hours she had listened for the sound of the garage, the door, the rattle of keys, the whisper of quiet footsteps as he attempted to make no sound. Little did he know that sleep had eluded her as she waited for his return, dozing only to find herself awake again, jarred into the moment by the absence of her other half. Now, with that gentle touch, her eyes closed in total peace as slumber carried her away.

Then and Now

The rain had eased, but the gray skies still echoed with the darkness in her heart. She worked her way down the street crowded with parked cars and veered right at the first intersection. When she was eight, that intersection had been the boundary point, her mother reminding her to go not one step past the stop sign there. When she was ten, it had been the meeting spot for sleep-overs at Mandy’s house; the girls would meet at the halfway point and then walk giggling back to the house that was the evening’s destination. At thirteen, it was the marker between before and after. Then her world had been so orderly and full and abundant, but now it was empty and dark and cold.