It Lasts Forever and Then It's Over

by Anne de Marcken

Small suns dapple my body. I feel the way I did the summer I moved into a tent in my mother’s backyard and read all the Narnia books. The summer of the portable typewriter. The summer of peach paper and green ink.

I wish that I had opened my eyes. I wish that I had turned from the window and looked at you in that moment when you were looking at me. This world slipped by me.