PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll
Sitting behind me, as fate would have it, as you drag your finger across my back, I know it’s you. The faintest touch of a dizzily dragging finger that makes the hairs stand up on the back of my neck like you knew it would. But we were just children.
And you were still just a child when you passed to the other side; when you knocked on my door and asked to come back. It was too late. I felt a guilt it my heart I didn’t know was there, like you knew I would. But we were just children.