She reminds him of Copenhagen.

It’s not her long, brown hair that falls down perfectly like a waterfall. If anything, that makes him feel like home; northern Virginia. (Why, yes, he usually says DC area when asked.)

Not that he has any in-depth understanding nor appreciation of the Danish capital, he couldn’t even name a single street in Copenhagen if he tried.

But she reminds him of the rush in his vein the very moment he landed in Copenhagen airport, the Kastrup. …


She grabbed his left hand and started to run.

The earth started to shake and rip open under their feet, fire came out from the center of earth, smoke and ashes fill the air.

Funny how life changes.

Seemed like just moments ago, she was sitting in her hotel room at the Ritz-Carlton, Chicago. She had no clue how she got here, Chicago of all places. If it were up to her, she wouldn’t be crossing that Mason Dixon line.

Somehow, she knew a boy is going to walk in the room in exactly 7 minutes, and he’ll come smiling…


“This world is far from small
And her heart is the center of it all
And there’s a river that runs through hills, and it’s never still

Listen closely to the sky
And it’ll show you how to dot life’s i’s.
And don’t be afraid if the girl decides to run
It’s half of the fun”

This is the 9th time this Josh Abbott Band song came on the radio today… Or is it the 99th time? Who could even tell anymore? Time is a social construct.

Foo Lindsay followed up that thought with a series of intense, aggressive, and…


I haven’t seen you for almost five years, love.

It ended just as unexpected as it began, spring time in New York.

I walked by a tree that very morning, it immediately became my favorite tree in east village. I stopped for a minute and just admired it from across the street.

I took a picture of my new favorite tree and quickly initiated a healthy dose of self-loathing for what I was about to do.

Getting on a New York City subway.

Midtown.

Redemption was busy that Saturday afternoon; it was Kentucky Derby day followed by UFC fight night…


“My God, I hate country music.” He grumbled as he threw his truck in park.

“Long tanned legs, cold beers, weekends, pickup trucks. We get it, bro, you like to have fun.” He thought to himself, annoyed, but defeated; as he walked into the little dive bar as the latest Luke Combs banger blasted out the speakers.

He had been to this dive bar before. In fact, he had been here just yesterday. And the day before, and the day before that. This dive bar has never not played country music.

He hated that.

But here he was again, sitting…


“So when will we all see each other again?” Damon breaks the comfortable silence around the bonfire as the fire slowly, but progressively, dances away into the night.

“Soon, hopefully.” Delilah looks at him and smiles.

So vague it’s almost insincere if it wasn’t for the sparkles in her eyes. Delilah has always been described as an enigma; something about her you just can’t quite put a finger on. There’s grace in the way she carries herself, but nobody really knows it is actually somewhat a disguise of her fear of rejection.

But then there’s Damon.

Still sitting by the…

Vintage Heart

I write short stories spontaneously.

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