A short story...

Even though it never snows in Los Angeles, I wanted to add a sort of short story/poem I wrote with a wintery edge in the midst of the hot summer days.

The text on the poster is:
WE TOOK THE LONG WAY TO YOUR PARENTS’ HOUSE THAT NIGHT, THE CHILL IN THE AIR EXPOSED OUR FRAGILE BREATH AS IT FLED OUR LUNGS AND EVAPORATED LIKE THE DETAILS OF A DREAM INFECTED WITH DAYLIGHT. AND AS THE SNOW GRACEFULLY FELL UPON US, I OFFERED YOU MY SCARF, YOU REPLIED THAT YOU WEREN’T COLD, THOUGH THE TREMBLING FINGERS LACED WITHIN MINE REVEALED YOUR DECEPTION AND FORCED ME TO INSIST. WE KEPT A HESITANT PACE AS WE NEARED YOUR HOME, HOPING THAT OUR STEPS MIRRORED EVERY CLOCK IN THE WORLD AND LENGTHENED EACH MOMENT TO ITS NEGOTIABLE BREAKING POINT. WE SPOKE OF DISTANT DREAMS, AND MADE PREDICTIONS OF THE NUMEROUS FUTURES THAT COULD AWAIT US. WE WERE ROCK STARS AND ASTRONAUTS AND NOBEL PRIZE WINNERS. WE HAD DOZENS OF CHILDREN AND ROBOT PETS AND CARS THAT DROVE THEMSELVES. WE JOKED AND CURSED AND SWORE TO SECRECY OUR PREDICTIONS OF THE FRIENDS WE SUSPECTED WOULD AMOUNT TO NOTHING. WE REVELED IN THE INTOXICATING POTENTIAL WE CARRIED WITHIN OUR YOUTH. AND FOR THE LENGTH OF THAT CRUELY SHORT WALK, WE LIVED LIKE A MOVIE SCRIPT FOR A FILM IN WHICH I FOUND A FLEETING PEACE INSIDE MY SKIN, AN EASE INSIDE MY MIND AND A MEMORY I’D HOPE TO ONE DAY RECALL AS I SAT, RECLINED WITH MY ROBOT PET, IN MY CAR THAT DROVE ITSELF.

I NEVER DID GET THAT SCARF BACK.