There were reasons for our languor, our permanent malaise. We discussed them like all good parents would but never found a satisfactory answer. If there was one? Sat on our porch, we even cuddled one tangerine sunrise whilst watching the yard; it lit her twisted bike like a burnt memory.
We met in the swirling cigarette smoke of a downtown bar. An accidental rendezvous, we collided mid-waft; I spilled my drink, she spilled her heart. Fate flung us together that night, two unlucky in love souls prone to bourbon distractions. We joked cigarettes saved us. The truth, they did.
Failed Brakes: two lives, one tree.