Forever Gone

Closed eyes. Foursquare on the chair with nothing but hum and gurgle, light and fridge for company. Kurt rubbed flats of hands against legs and serge. The sound conjured the shush, shush of sea on shingles at midnight.

He opened his eyes and looked through the up and down strokes of long dried paint to a place he’d thought lost.

Eighteen years in his life. Her face as fresh as flowers he’d once woven through her hair. Life as strong as legs pounding the ground behind him as he ran before her....