Faith
“Dillon, when did you loose your faith?”
Talk about knocking the air out of a body. All of a sudden if seemed as if there wasn’t any gravity and he was floating from the porch. When indeed had he lost his faith? He had to be honest with himself, he knew.
“Come to church tomorrow.”
“Are you gonna sing?” He studied her face for a moment.
She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if I can.”
He wanted to pick her up and hold her in his arms. In his mind, he could see himself reaching over, picking her up and sitting her on his lap. He wanted to feel the slight pressure her tiny body would exert on his lap. He wanted the scent of her perfume to flood his senses. Stop it! Stop it! He warned himself. “I left all my numbers on the fridge. If you need me, call me.” He fought the lump in his throat. “Even if you hear bats in the attic.”
She laughed. Every laugh no matter how big or small was always genuine. “I’m not afraid of bats. Neither is Bessie.”
“Bessie?”
“My 22 pistol, it lives under my pillow.”
“What pillow?” He playfully questioned.
“Oh,” she gasped, “you’re right.” As if he had told her something she didn’t already know and continued laughing.
He watched her laugh. Oh it pained him to think about how much he’d missed her. That was why he was angry with God, among other things, because God let her leave some 30 years ago and he’d been too scared to stop her.
“Please call me, for anything.” His voice was full of emotion.
“If you get worried about me, call me. You have my number.”
“Very well,” he got up to leave.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” She smiled, “Dillon,” she called after him. The sound of her voice caused his heart to skip a beat. He turned to face her. “Thanks for the vine.”
He smiled to her and left.
Poetry & More 
These characters are very real and the sense of their shared past is well done.😀
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Thank you 💕
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