Stephen

Morning arrived innocently enough. We had no idea what was coming. It started with a perfunctory gathering. A few feeble words, feigning a subordinate clause, that swiftly turned into a sentence as long as a sweltering Andalusian midsummer’s eve where the sun, stubborn as a wounded bull staring down a proud matador, hung wearily above the horizon, not able to die, yet unready to stumble through another cursed day.