A sideways kiss

I stroked his beard, and hoped for a sideways kiss. He was distracted, like before, and he barely noticed. He was thinking what his life would be without his burden. It was a hard thought. The things he would miss, and the things that brought us here. The crumbled stepping stones between then and now. And then he looked at me and wiped the drool off my chin. His eyes were kind.


Author: Steven Baird

Writer, amateur photographer, ad compositor and chicken herder.

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