Rebecca called tonight to tell me that she missed me. I didn’t have the heart to say I hadn’t recognized her voice. To tell the truth, we’d neither of us seen me in a while. She said she’d found a new way to hit those trills and vocal flips we’d abandoned long ago. I asked how she got my number. My politeness was killing. Both of us, in fact. The life we used to lead spun out in irregular rhymes. A rhythm that never resolved.
For the sake of anyone stumbling across this blog, the writing and opinions posted here are solely mine (unless otherwise credited). They do not reflect the opinions of my family, my friends, my employer, or any person/party who is not directly me.
All posts are © Jessica N. Coles. Please do not repost content without permission.Archive
Twitter
- New Post at My Mental Milkcrate - What I Learned from Buying a Touring Bicycle: wp.me/p7YTK-kV 1 week ago
Friends
Interests
It is an excelent text, I love the idea of two humans not being able to coordinate both their rythms. It is a modern impossible love. They could be also like to instruments that are in different keys, it is damn hard to make them work together.