On Through the Sparkling Light [working]
an excerpt

[Just a random snippet . . .]

And I think that’s when I’d snapped – when he talked about moving on. When he talked about how we’d both move on at the very instant he was telling me he no longer wanted to be with me, while he was telling me that what we had was special and real and true in the precise moment that he was ending it. And I couldn’t stand it – and I shouted out something I would probably be ashamed of now and I calmly put the Coke down on the concrete floor and I clutched my stomach as though I might throw up and then I turned and walked away . . . just skirted down the three white steps to the sidewalk, down the driveway, past this pick-up truck and the little cluster of trees on the edge of the yard and back, back down to my old Victorian house on Cranberry.

And I didn’t turn around.

And he didn’t come after me.

And that was, indelibly, the last time I saw Chris Langley.