MPJ

I loved her. I still do. With everything I've got. Ever since that cloudy day four years ago when we met in the park. Ever since I realized she was the one I was looking for my whole life. Ever since she shared her heart and her entire life with me. Ever since I moved into her place a week after we accidentally jogged into each other. And look at me now under this eerie rain... Standing on her grave. Alone and wet. I don't know what to do. She would be alive if it wasn't for me. It was all my fault. That day I was returning from my afternoon walk and saw Garry, the mailman, from across the street just leaving our building. I hurried back. When I entered our apartment she already opened the envelope and a bottle of red wine. With the glass half empty she saw me, gave me tired smile and pointed the letter on the floor. "It's another rejection.. Oh, Husk.. I am not sure I can handle them anymore". She made one of those heavy sighs she started with in re

Couple of days ago, on a very last September's day, a very unusual and bright sunshine beamed through the open window directly toward our bed and my still not completely awakened face. It was incredibly beautiful Sunday morning and with half-opened right eye I tried to glimpse our small digital clock and like usual I needed to turn on my extra-powered vision in order to see the time. After couple of seconds of adjusting, grimacing and winking, the very last morning dream finally faded away and I saw that I overslept again, like in almost established tradition for couple of dozens of Sundays in the past. It was perfectly fine, my wife and son, who again moved to our bed at some point of the night, were still sleeping under the amber-colored sunlight enjoying their night adventures in their morning dreams. I got up out of bed and during my morning routine performed in slow motion, including checking for new messages and emails, I saw weather prognosis for the day of 35 degrees (95F)