she sat curled up at the head of my bed.
Pencil protruding from her left ear, as high lighters met torn out notebook paper at the surface of my comforter.
I layed to the left of her.
Seemingly, attentively reading the last few chapters of The Lost Symbol.
Feeling myself drift from the pages, I no longer gave a **** about Dan Brown.
I missed her.
I have not seen or felt her in weeks.
I wish I can blame that on professor New and her desire for an A in his class but I can’t.

“baby you hungry?. I can order China man if you like”
“no, I ate before you got home”

She answered.
Never lifting her eyes from the pages.
I continued with attempts to reconnect with Dan Brown, but It was useless.
As if a book couldn’t keep my attention unless it was loaded with Pictures and pastel colors.
My eyes began to roam around the room noticing
The unfinished Amber walls from months ago.
Our first home project
She asked if i would paint them amber.
She once loved the sight of it flourishing throughout the skies at dawn.
About two months ago was the last time she yearned for that mental picture...



-Danielle a. watson