A Crack in the Wall

I’m sitting by my lake again, trying to be the rocks and let the waves come in and wash away those layers of my life that I wish so much to just forget.

“I’m sorry.” Nick.

“What are you doing, idiot? Why did you walk on that foot?”

“Well, I crawled, actually.”

I actually allow myself a snort.

“She laughs?” He teases.

Hush. In. Out. The breath of Superior.

“What are you sorry for?”

“Offending you. And also for what I’m about to do.”

I go on edge. Hiawatha Black Bear. He catches on. Tim was able to do that, too.

“Pry. I’m about to pry.”


“I won’t. I want to know about this. I love a good story.”

So did Tim.

By now, he’s crawled over and is sitting by me. I can feel the heat emanating from his body. It’s not threatening. It seems truthful enough. My mind doesn’t want to allow him to be so close. I don’t want him to be able to tear down my wall.

But some part of me does.

“What happened to you?” His voice caresses.

“Not a what. A who.”

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