Intruder

            I was
out early the next morning.  Mathew was
apparently still asleep.  He was doing
gigs with the band at night, sleeping late.  Two nights passed and I had yet to see him.  The memories were weighing heavy on me.  I remembered the last time I'd slept in this
room, not even seven months ago.  Maybe
he was avoiding me because of Ben.  I went
into his room more than once.  It smelled
like him.  I’d picked up his guitar
running my fingers along the strings.  Sara caught me once standing in the middle of
the room.

            “Morgan,” she said.

            Her voice made me jump and I turned to look at her.

            “Hey-” I said feeling like an
intruder.

            I stopped realizing anything I said
would sound stupid.

            “It’s okay,” she said.  “I don’t think he would mind.” 





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