Downtown, my headlights round the marina. And, like the way your knuckle jams sometimes (that empty pain), it’s snowing again. The tires barely crunch as I pull up to the edge of the lake. City lights glow behind, dark water in front; and all I can think is how old things are covered, with new things replaced. I loved you once. My tracks fill with snow.


Thanks to our host for this six-sentence prompt. Read more responses on the idea of “Place” here: