Photos

Abby Chiaramonte

We had both slept with other people, but that was not the secret. We had never spoken of it, but instinctively knew by the guilt in the eyes and the overzealous fucking following. Our kisses were pieces of a puzzle I’d done many times as a child, but now couldn’t remember how the pieces fit together. The tongues were in the wrong places. It was safer to assume we were relatively even, and resume as normal. I loved him after all, and what’s a little indiscretion between lovers…

To continue reading “Photos,” visit the journal website by clicking here:

http://und.edu/orgs/floodwall/_files/docs/chiaramonte-fictionfall2012.cfm

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