LeftCoastKenny
Bureau
He left his shaving brush on the bureau. He called it that. She always talked about the dresser, even though it wasn’t Welsh and instead of plates and cups there were magazines and old LPs stacked up inside.
It was cosier in there, he said. He could shave under good morning light from the east-facing window, instead of the cold strip lighting in the bathroom, where she kept her makeup bag. If she passed muster in there, she said… he always added something like “you’ll be a princess everywhere you go.” It made her smile, but it was true. Even now after all these years she’d enter the room, dressed in her best red dress, and he’d be speechlessly in love with her.
She leaned across him, slantwise, ran her hand over his stubbled cheek. Straightened up the photograph. He smiled, hoping that it would continue like this forever – this cosy companionship of knowing that they fitted together like spoons in a drawer. That the curve of his cheek matched the cupped palm of her hand. Like pieces of a jigsaw, making so much more sense together than they did when they were apart.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, Debra Broughton and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
