firecracker

And just like that we're on again.... forgetting for the moment that we had fallen into another one of those emotional sabbaticals. And I'm slipping on the red shoes and you're brushing up against me in the kitchen cradling my neck, reaching for my hand.
Over breakfast, we are talking in code as the boys clink glasses and blow raspberries at each other. coy smile. heavy sigh. I clear the table and feel the hum of our re-connection in my head. One red shoe stands on its side by the back door, another near the bedroom window, a pair of firecrackers broken loose from the night sky.