Photo prompt courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Dusty Springfield’s voice floats from the CD player you gave me. Seems like Dusty’s feeling needy. Me too. Dusty’s in heaven now. Maybe they don’t care so much about getting good loving up there but down here I damn well do. I fight the impulse to get off our lonely grave of a bed and go in that room of yours. I so lose the battle.
I’ll start with the stringed instruments. Easy to send forever out of tune. Then I’ll spill hot coffee everywhere and scissor the life out of any cable I believe is important to you.