Hardened, is what I thought I was. Not quite wizened yet, but wise. So I made him promise that it would only be one night, and we’d never meet again. It seemed like the perfect romance.
We weren’t supposed to talk the way we did, all through the next day, pillow by jowl. We shouldn’t have understood or laughed so easily with the wine ebbing from our veins.
I feel things that are new and as old as time, I wrote. You give me frisms. I shiver in sunlight, I dance in the street.
We broke our promises.
This piece of writing is featured in PEN’s e-book, The Dictionary of Made-Up Words, made in partnership with the European Commission Representation in the United Kingdom. Read the whole book!