• mortar and bricks
    for you to rest your head against
    when the people you’ve called friends
    have become solid and hard.

  • the leathery surface of your skin, the stiff and slip of your right arm, wrapped around me.

  • Cheryl Cummings commented on the post, real 6 years, 5 months ago

    It seemed real, but then again, what does that mean? Your arms were there, scraping against mine. You lips were chapped, rubbing against mine. Your eyes were blank. Your shirt was off. Your chest was bare.

  • Cheryl Cummings commented on the post, spa 6 years, 10 months ago

    She needed a break. She loved her children, but she needed to get away. One son, plus a disabled husband is a little much to bear on working woman, supporting a family and a college lover.

  • Cheryl Cummings commented on the post, soups 7 years ago

    We were like a pot of stew – such a mixture of differing ingredients, some unlikely, but somehow coming together as one complete and amazing creation.
    I think if we were a soup, and served to millions, everyone […]

  • Cheryl Cummings commented on the post, straw 7 years, 1 month ago

    He chewed the bit of straw as if it were a last supper, though I think it was only that he was in a deep concentration. We sat in the countryside together – right next to one another- in the field, voicing not a […]

  • I smacked the invisible tennis ball with the imaginary racket gripped between fingers.
    I always wanted to be an athlete but football was too physically demanding, baseball was too defined, and basketball […]