Her by Nanisi Barrett D’ArnukI watched her as she stood in line at the food court. She was still the incredible woman I’d fallen in love with almost twenty years ago. Of course time had added a bit of grey to the roof and a brick or two to the foundation, but not too many. All of us had that happen over the years, but a few tried to hide it behind an artificial color from little plastic bottles that was applied every few weeks, or longer jackets to hide any overflow.
Twenty years ago I’d lived way across the country and our relationship consisted of phone calls, emails, instant messages, and romantic cards, and gifts. Our focus was on seducing each other long-distance. We’d visited back and forth a couple times when one of us had a few days free. But as time went on, it got harder and har
