My cousin Dina visited my brother Cabell and I in Boston for Thanksgiving this week. It was wonderful having her over. She looks so much like our mom, her being with us was like homesick medication. Before taking her to the airport this morning we stopped into Thinking Cup on the Boston Common for a quick couple cups of coffee. Whilst sipping away Dina and I played a literary game of air hockey with my phone and wrote this short story.
Me: The sun rose
Dina: A girl woke up
M: To music from Chopin on the radio
D: The coffee in the table was hot
M: And her windows were open
D: She likes the mornings but not this morning
M: But the sound of the ocean floating in on a cool breeze eases her mind
D: And Remains her home , but this wasn't her home
M: And then, the accident
D: The car , the crash and the silence
M: The pain in her legs every morning
D: And scars in her heart, still bleeding
M: Knowing that he is no longer there
D: And she will never see him again
M: : There is a knock at the door
D: She don't want to answer
M: Knock, knock, knock, knock
D: Who is this? And what they want? She wondered
M: A voice through the window "It's your mother, I know you're home"
D: The sound of her voice makes her relax and think that everything will be ok ... Someday
M: The End.