Sound gives memory its depth.
I associate the sound of early morning sprinklers chattering across the neighborhood lawns with a drive home after a long night. I was in my early twenties and lost between the ideas of love and lust. I had just discovered an article of clothing, which was left behind by the girl that undressed in my backseat and allowed me a few moments of her time.
After moving through the Long Island parkways, I made it to my familiar side streets, and pulled into my driveway. I was living in a basement at the time, but I was not ready to go inside.
I pulled in and shut the ignition after rolling up the windows in my blue, beat up four-door Chevy. The sky had Continue reading