My latest over at your fave punk noir mag —
The scene was perfect. Hollywood could not do it justice.
A quiet house at the end of the lane. Two young people on their own. The baby they were sitting had been tucked in long ago, sleeping in chubby-fisted peace.
And the scary movie – somewhat snowy despite all attempts to adjust the antenna – had just enough chills to bring them closer together on the sofa, though the monster from outer space was vanquished in the end by the plucky cooper and the sprightly clerk. America was safe once more.
Shy smiles gave way to an arm slipped slowly around a shoulder. Giggles and glances exchanged and then that first sweet kiss—long anticipated, dreamed even, but all the more magical because now it was real. It would have been difficult to picture a more perfect scene.
If only it had been me there on that couch.
But I had…
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