Every story has a beginning....

New story I just started...all material is original.
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There is a short time on certain June mornings in Richmond when the humidity kisses your skin instead of coating it. The air damp yet still cool, like when your mother would lay a moist cloth on your forehead. Later in the day, the sun will heat the humidity, trapping the air around you. June mornings still have that coolness, something that the later, oppressive summer months of July and August do not. Later, though, I would miss even those months.

The boxes arrive on a Tuesday morning from U-Haul. Free shipping on orders over $99. I remark to Jeremy that it was funny we were shipped boxes just to turn around, fill them with our stuff and ship them back out. “Not really,” he said.

I stood in the square living room, shoved between a couch and a coffee table. “If we were married, this would be easier.”

He said it was like we were practically married. “Not really,” I muttered.

In the end, though, I guess it kind of was like we were married. Even married people leave each other sometimes.