Love came fast. For me. For her, love was simply bait, a lure, a grift. And I, her mark.
Married in March, the Strawberry Moon revealed all, her veil removed. Now, silence, darkness, and locked doors are our love language.
I wonder what she misses more: fresh air or sunlight.
Chris Bowers lives on Earth, which is almost enough. He explores the spectrum of human emotion through fiction inspired by fleeting moments and small-town life, crafting stories that reveal the beauty, absurdity, and ache of being thoroughly, stubbornly alive.
