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water flows into the sky.
When cornered, desperate, or isolated, man reverts to those instincts that aim straight at survival.
Felt anchored to something; released from something else.
She grinned wide and they looked into each other’s eyes, closing a circuit.
Jodie had said that if a bird becomes different from the others—disfigured or wounded—it is more likely to attract a predator, so the rest of the flock will kill it, which is better than drawing in an eagle, who might take one of them in the bargain.
But these hurried groping hands were only a taking, not a sharing or giving.
How much do you trade to defeat lonesomeness?
This chance of acceptance might go away if she said no.
Giving away another piece of herself just to have someone else.
The shack stood silent against the early stir of blackbird wings, as an earnest winter fog formed along the ground, bunching up against the walls like large wisps of cotton.
Why should the injured, the still bleeding, bear the onus of forgiveness?
Leaning on someone leaves you on the ground.
