Each day that passes, my amnesia grows stronger and stronger.
The world looks wavy through the rain-covered windshield as my turn signal rythmically ticks and ticks.
I want more, not less.
She held the door open as I walked past. The symbolism got my attention. She looked out into the world as we said our good byes.
She gave the performance of a lifetime.
Her eyes fluttered as she slept, propped up in the waiting room chair.
The street light casts a warm glow on the fresh dusting of snow. Not one footprint on the sidewalk to be found.
The whisper circled her ear, and was gone. She looked around, and saw nobody.