https://www.angelfire.com/art/letters/index.html
writegirl@altavista.com
Stenning,
It’s starting to rain.
Last night when we spoke I could feel her on you. The words you used weren’t yours, they belong to someone else. I know you have been with someone new. Women can sense another woman’s touch. It’s little things a man never thinks about. Like the turn of a phrase, the forgotten birthday, and even your reaction to the words I say back to you.
I am so glad that it was just a phone call between us because if it had been in person and if I had brought your hand to my face, gathered your fingertips close to my nose in a loving gesture, I don’t think I would have appreciated your new cologne.
I feel the dark rumbling clouds rolling in. Should I expect a bolt of lightning to erupt any time now?
How I wish I was an angel. I would tighten my wings to my ears so I could not hear.
Linda