this, just like the signal of burnishing leaves outside slowly losing their green in favor of burnt umber & goldenrod, is the liminal space of their relationship. there’s no more denial associated with late nights or text messages, or furtive, sideways glances.
but anything more than that?
spending anything approaching quality time, touching daylight activities as a pair, has slipped into categorical avoidance. until now. sam has a fresh mug of coffee dusted with a festive smattering of cinnamon in one hand, hip propped against the kitchen counter. the house, decorated with autumnal wreaths in the windows & cartoonish decals, is ready for the season. an assortment of ingredients sits between a careful arrangement of gourds to be tended to.
sam’s eyebrow arches over a sip toward @ceremonially. “ you can stay, if you want. i’m making cookies for ruby’s soccer team before the last game. ”









