Thirty-One Years
An old bear, kept in a chest, waiting to see his person once again.
This Is What Heaven Is Like
I breathed in the scent of her, the peace and vibrancy of her spirit. I had a powerful feeling then, so strong that it echoes in me still, and I know I’ll always come back to this one perfect day. I thought, “This is exactly what heaven is like.”
By morning, he had decided he needed somewhere nobody cared about theater, someplace where the name Chekhov was more likely to be mistaken for a rifle than a playwright.