Jan
3
Greenfields
January 3, 2011 | Leave a Comment
“Greenfields” it was. The melodic Brothers 4 and on a summer afternoon so fine, each note floated and came gently to rest upon the maple leaves, satisfied. The ’55 BelAir was parked beneath one of those trees, and you and I leaned against the driver’s door as we sat on the cool earth below. We […]
Jan
3
The Touch of Her Hand
January 3, 2011 | Leave a Comment
The touch of her hand was electric. The tingle shivering from fingertip to wrist. It cannot be denied I loved her from the first moment I saw her. In a service station, of all places. In a GTO. Me–the guy with the rag in his back pocket–her with the floor shift. What is it that […]