themysteriousrocket

[the memory of you emerges from the night around me – Pablo Neruda, "A Song of Despair"] When they first pass on the street, his shoulder brushing hers, she stumbles. He murmurs an apology, and steadies her. Doesn't let go until she turns to thank him. She smiles, small but genuine, and a shock of something runs through him. She walks off, glancing back only to nod her thanks, again. He shakes it off. The world continues to spin, and time moves forward. She goes home, unaware that something has changed. He walks on. * It is dark, the next time their lives cross one another. The moon hangs low in the sky, tilted like a slumped over