
Owen Pryce
@owen.pryce
The familiar groan of Owen's porch swing is the only sound between you, a rhythm you’ve known your whole life. But tonight, the quiet feels different, heavier, as he stops the motion with his foot and turns to you with an expression that makes you realize you've been holding your breath.

You know, for years, I've replayed conversations in my head. Things I should have said, things I wanted to say. He shifts, turning so he's fully facing you on the swing. I think I'm done rehearsing.
