the list of moments that mattered most to you? That shaped your life? What
would you choose to remember or choose to ignore even in the face of death? Who
would you miss? What would you regret not doing? Who would you regret not
loving? In the face of your own mortality or in the face of your lover’s, what
would be part of the list?
love with Bailey. He was barely fifteen and I was nothing more than the sappy
thirteen year old obsessed with the older, bright eyed, dark brown haired boy
with an accent that would make any country lover proud. It was right before
church, and Bailey was in the same place he always was, the nursery. He loved
to be around kids, but babies were his favorite. There was something about
holding the very beginning of life, a clean slate, an unbiased soul that was
exhilarating to him. Sometimes people forget that hatred isn’t born. It’s bred.
It’s instilled and re-instilled through words as well as actions. Unfortunately
for us that simple truth has haunted us like an unsettled spirit seeking
revenge on a world it was afraid had forgotten it.
cradles the infant to his broad, white t-shirt covered chest. He rocks her and
hums his favorite hymn. I do my best to hide my giggles. Only Bailey can get
away with singing Noelle in the middle of August.
mine. With a wide grin he locks eyes with me and states, “Someday, you’re gonna
be holdin’ ours.”
slight twang he’s trying to hide.
the favored blonde. Brown skin by nature, not golden sun kissed like everyone
else I know. A little too full up top. Thighs that most girls would cry over
because they touch. I wear t-shirts at the pool to hide those flaws. I mean, my
teeth are straight and I have less zits than most girls my age, but my face is
fatter. I don’t wear makeup. I’ve never even had my eyebrows plucked. No part
of me is worthy of being called beautiful. Not even a little.
cheek created when I smile isn’t an enhancement, it’s an embarrassment, but
Bailey doesn’t wait for my response. He simply winks and returns to singing.
infant she had been holding in one of the cribs and scolds “Don’t go making
promises in the Lord’s house you don’t plan to keep, Bailey Cooper.”
He glances up to give me another smirk. “See, I love Kenny. Always have. Always
Neal lives in Texas where she spends her time getting lost in writing, reading,
or fandoms she recently discovered. Whether she is enjoying books or movies,
she continues finding inspiration at every turn to bring more exciting stories
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