On the driveway, the sombrero sat atop the boxes full of bottles. This was the slap in the face (when the real slap didn’t register) that brought it all home; that it was all over. Finally.
This cheap, dust-covered, mice-eaten hat. It was the sun melting away into the sea and discovering the new world of each other’s bodies. It was everything’s going to last forever: there to be collected with the recycling.
He shook his freckled head, bent down, picked up the hat, shook it once and put it on. He turned around, got in his car and drove away.
The images of the second paragraph almost took my breath away. Great wordmanship.
Pleased you enjoyed it. Thanks for the positive feedback.
” . . .cheap, dust-covered, mice-eaten. . .” — truly symbolic of a love affair that’s over, ABSOLUTELY over! Nice job, John.
That’s was the effect I was after. Thank you for the vote of confidence.
Really enjoyed this story, JPK.
Thank you, S.T.