sun beam

she sat, longingly looking out the north facing bay window. On pastel plastic coated cushions engineered to fit the precise patterns architects seven states away slaved 6 months over with sweat and tears with their jobs on the line......she reclined.
slightly built slender fingers held the left side of her cheek and her chin rested in her palm. she sighed.
her vision danced across the inventory of a back yard where various miscellaneous parts of cars and motorcycles littered the green canvas.
a tree with a swing
a swimming pool

she was angry
so she told him so

the smell of his shaving gel awoke visions of early childhood while her dad was still alive. Early mornings before school, Saturdays when the family had french toast together watching cartoons.

going for a car ride


"I can find another girlfriend who isnt mad at me all the time!"
"who isnt a fucking bitch!" 

he said while he was shaving

"who doesn't bitch about all the shit I do wrong!"  .... he yelled
"I can go find a girlfriend who doesn't bitch all the fucking time!"

she looked down at the potted plants in front of here, there was a bright sunny beam piercing the bay window warming her face.