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It was an inch in length, and the color revealed it was new. We all had scars and each one had a story. I wondered what story his would tell. His facial hair was short and scruffy—not intentionally, but more like he hadn’t found the time
Several thin, long scratches marred the inside of his right forearm.
“Don’t worry. They paid for it.”
He froze for a second. It seemed as though his shoulders tensed up, but I couldn’t be sure. Calvin turned back. “That would be my ex, Lisa.” He folded in his lips and went back to stirring the pot.
“Because she’s dead,” he said.
time I had that feeling. Well, actually, I could and it didn’t end well.
wondered what it was Calvin did or desired that kept him sane, fulfilled, and satisfied.
phoned my brother, Joe, last night after you went to bed to remind him and again this morning. He’ll be over today to take a look at it.”
things again, that we could move forward, put the past in the past, as they say. But past was just a word. The memories we carried kept it alive, and memories were just stories we told ourselves. Joe and I had two very different stories. He had forgotten his, but I hadn’t forgotten mine. “Yeah.
