Neila Mezynski

At 3:00 he was standing still and straight. Again. Down below, tall dark. There. She waited with him. It was alright. He was hers. Dotty's. Interminable nights, apple cake, fear ridden me. Dear Junior. He decided and left. Wait. One day she decided to go down. To stand beside tall, dark. Maybe speak to him. That didn't matter if she spoke or didn't. She wasn't afraid. Today she would go. He was her life, he was.