A Love Story

Short Fiction

edited by Megan Haab

She was gorgeous, twenty years ago. He could tell. Everyone could tell. She’s still beautiful, compared to others. She sleeps next to him, plot lines unfurling in her dreams. He reaches under the blanket and glides his fingertips over the skin below her panty line, tracing the imperfections. She shifts her hips, never waking. Those hips, he loved to watch them move beneath her skirt. The skirt which hides her marks. The marks on those thighs, that steal your focus. She sleeps, peacefully. A glassy lake at dawn. Her skin betrays a lifetime of hard living. It’s only ripples on the water to him. The solution to a hard life has always been alcohol, drugs, sex, etc. And our skin suffers. He understands this. We all understand this.

She shifts on her pillow. She’s looking for the cold spot, he thinks. This makes him smile. A strand of hair lays over her face. He moves it, gently, behind her ear. She shifts in her sleep, then kicks again. The comforter moves down, exposing…