late stage summer: missed connections, audre's legacy, demure vs brat

In the dim light of the hangar, Grief stood stock-still for a moment, taking in the strangeness of the sight.

It was like a ghost asking you to leave your husband for them—there was no kind way to say But you’re see-through.

And instead I look at these unopened emails from friends and family and colleagues until I have memorized the subject lines by heart and think about how strange it is that they probably think that I’m ignoring them when in fact I am utterly haunted by them.

He pulls back too soon, catching the familiar suggestion of her perfume. He is terrified of being unable to let go, unconsciously retracing the contours of her. Every time he imagines he has moved on, a comment or a reference takes him back, life since defined by her absence. ‘How are you?’ he says, pleased that his voice sounds reasonably authorit