Cricketer Malinga and his girlfriend

Her room was the smaller, and the new “studio” was in the master. She paced back and forth looking out the front window into the parking lot and ...hen out the back kitchen sliding glass doors onto the porch overlooking the small crappy yard and stream. The stream was a big attraction for this place. The real estate agent loved to mention it when selling the condos, but the truth was it was more of a rain overflow ditch than a stream. The events of today were like puzzle pieces, and she had. The blood tells me. I stop and listen to my blood. It is the first voice I have heard in days, months, centuries. It tells me secrets about myself, things I never wanted to know. Falling to my knees I begin to cry. Only the gulls answer me. I sit and stare across the water. On some shore I cannot see across the blue waste of water lies a place that once may have been home. I try to remember what it was like there, what I did, who I loved. I almost remember when my wounds reopen and I allow. More

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