Wednesday, January 23, 2013


For tonight, Brian has selected a brilliant red-violet cravat with charcoal stripes, widely spaced.  Instead of the romantic and elegant evening she had envisioned, it had turned sloppy and morbid.  She grabbed her wineglass and stumbled out, deep into the rows of Cab Franc, its bunches full and ready.  The deepening dusk made the vineyard her refuge, and she sat down, listening for her name.