Word for/ Word

John Gallaher and Kristina Marie Darling

The Chapter on Regret

I tried to phone you, but the snow went on for miles. That was the beginning of winter, a year of thin trees & that odd silence. Soon the trellis is iced over, the entire garden covered in frost. The flowers so perfect they're no longer here.

As a small child, I had always imagined unhappiness would be easy. Now the windows on our street darken like a kiss goodnight. No matter what number I dial, you never seem to pick up.