January Fades




He turned the postcard over in his hand, her perfume on the pen. He had to read it again twice to be sure, to get the feeling right:

Pineapples ripe
Coconut full with milk
The sun is sizzling my skin and now I’m hot to the touch
When are you coming?
PS- Bring a spoon


He dropped the other envelopes and went to the closet for his suitcase.


No comments:

Post a Comment