Back to Shane Jones's Artist PageTo the Artist's Page                Back to the Unlikely Stories home pageTo our home page
StardomTo Shane Jones's previous piece     Not So PerfectTo Shane Jones's next piece

False Cathedrals

She placed her elbows
on the table
and leaned forward.
"After that
I would drink so much
that I wouldn't dream," she said.
I told her
she was being melodramatic,
although I knew
where she was coming from.
"It's funny," she said.
"You're either taking a beating
or handing one out."
I nodded.
Outside the leaves
were changing
from green to yellow,
the landscape had the look
where you knew it was cold.
The air crisp as bee stings.
"Want to go for a walk?" I asked.
She dipped her finger
into her coffee.
"There's no point to that now,
it's not going to save anything."
I looked out the window,
wondering what the air tasted like
at the end of the driveway.

To the top of this pageTo the top of this page