I locked up the office a few hours after Leo went home and I found a good stopping place in my brain storming. Every Sunday evening I go to the cemetery and visit my mother. When I was thirteen she passed away. She had stomach cancer and lost the battle after four years. I lived with my aunt for the remainder of my young adult years. My father was never in the picture. Last memory I have of him was when I was four. We went to Disney land and he took me on a few rides. After that I went to sleep on night and woke up the next morning and he wasn’t there. my mother never told me what happened, and I never asked. I sat at the edge of her headstone with a beer and talked to the rock in the ground with her name on it. I told her of my successful vampire romance and my recent chidlrens book idea. But as I got to my fifth bottle, I found myself telling the rock of the girl I’d let pass by me today. “She was beautiful mother. She had this red hair, blue eyes, and the most perfect smile I’ve ever seen in my life. For a moment, I even thought it was love at first sight. That thing that hopeless romantics only dream of. But who am I to deserve someone like that. I even tried to talk to her, to see her again, but as she told me of her tragic relationship she was healing from, I could see the pain in her eyes and the smile faded from her face. I hope I see her again mama. I really do.”
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