Return My Heart, Keep Your Regret
I kept a hand tucked in my pocket as I held the hair clip, slowly warming it, little by little.
In the distance, I could see the glimmering lights of Marola. They glittered like stars on the ocean's surface.
I took the highway that would go around the island, cruising down the road till I stopped beside the largest bridge in Brookville.
Leaning over to rest on the steering wheel, I simply stared out the window at the lights across the bridge.
A long while later, the hair clip was finally about the same temperature as my body. The lingering warmth brushed against my chest, reminding me of how Marco used to run his fingers through my hair when we were young.
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