graceful hoarding.

This is us in the sandbox. And later we would move to the back garden to entertain some guests. To hold their heads high above the water and wish them well. We might be somewhat foreshadowed by the next sitting, but as pictures go, we’ll fit the frame and fill the view.
*
You hoodwinked me with your story, I completely bought that thing about firm points of reference and a solid attachment—your lingering smirk should have been a warning sign, but then we both knew better than to look further.
*
“Will you ask me something?” you said at long last. A whitewashed wall, noncommittal, echoed the “innng” and reminded me of its presence. Rhythm in breathing, a steamed up skylight and a 9.71 price tag—dangling, out of space and time.