She emerged from the stall like an angel, a streamer of toilet paper trailing from one heel like a glittering train.
”She pictures him sitting by a window, bathed in the sunlight of a warm, summer afternoon, sketchbook resting on his knee, smiling at her. Smiling like he’s finally content."
I'll admit, it's a bit post-moderny for me, but I think this short story about a pigeon turned out well. Click below for the text.
The bed was big
Enough for a childhood
of rolling in the grass
magical books (their wondrous things
dreams of cookie batter
ice cream cakes
all-together in a clouded future.
beautiful days (bleaching
blond hair blonder).
Perfect for a child and a father.
Too small for you,