We’re sitting in the glow of neon, the golden arches casting pale yellow and red on the wet asphalt where we’re parked.
I’m sipping iced tea even thought it’s cold and we’re clutched by winter’s deep spell, flurries scattering around outside haphazardly lacking the stamina to collect themselves on the ground. The windshield wiper swipes at them randomly streaking the window with frost.
I’ve pulled my hat down low over my unwashed hair and my arms wrap across me as if my embrace could somehow hold my broken parts together.
The world is quiet and dark and we sink past midnight as the hours tick by. It’s 3:00 a.m. when she drops me off and I fiddle for my keys. My home has long since gone to bed, but someone left the light on for me. They knew I would be back late. This isn’t the first time she’s come and got me.
This post first appeared at Alia Joy for GraceTable