I Wish I Could Be That Stranger Across the Room Again

Prose Poetry

Photo by Mark Hayward on Unsplash

We were that surprise hurricane of a force that would end with only tears and a taste of destruction.

But let me back up — too soon, too soon — and set the scene.

You saw a girl by her lonesome, settled into a corner, no room for anyone but her moody thoughts. The jukebox hummed a soft melody…