It happened between one breath
and the next;
the crayon yielding with a snap
to a small, determined grip.
Our eyes met,
wide and waiting
for tears that never came.
Without a word,
you pressed the larger piece into my palm
and shoulder to shoulder
we scribbled the sky blue with possibility.
Your fingers brushed mine
as you drew the final line.
“Friends forever,” you whispered,
a promise beneath twin chocolate smiles
that forever was contained
by the borders of that page.
Now I’m scrolling through your life
three cities over,
a whole map away —
a finished portrait I didn’t help you start.
These days, I measure ‘forever’
by the sound of my own key turning,
the single set of heavy footsteps,
and the way the actual sky
is so terribly,
endlessly
wide.
Stephanie Hurley is a writer and English teacher based in Manawatū, New Zealand. She is passionate about all things creative; in particular, using writing to examine the world around her. Her work has been published in Tarot, Mote, Chortle, The Belladonna Comedy, Poetry Potion, and fiftywordstories.com.