island time

“I’m going back to Italy on the 15 th ,” Dahlia said, and the smile finally escaped her face. Richie froze and dropped the rag he was holding on the floor. He turned around slowly. The loud conversations in the café faded into background noise as if the two of them were the only ones inside. “The 15 th of this month?” he asked. He picked up the rag and started wiping down the same spot over and over. “I know it’s soon, but I think it’s the right time.” He could feel her glancing at him, but he was frowning at the counter, unmoving. “When did you decide?” “Just a couple of days ago. I talked to my sister about it for a while and finally decided to go back.” “I thought Jeri wanted you to stay for the summer,” he said, finally looking into her green eyes. “What about your team?” “She did. Plans change.” This time, Dahlia looked away and stared down at her feet. He wasn’t sure about her team, but he knew her coach would be happy for her. The opportunity to play in Italy was ra...

After the pastor spoke his final words, they released the doves into the sky. The doves. We call them doves. They’re just pigeons, the same birds that annoy us and beg us for food. But when they’re pretty and trained, we watch them with awe. I watched them fly for as long as possible until the sun blinded my eyes. It was hot and bright outside. I looked over at my parents and studied their faces. I couldn’t tell if it was tears or sweat dripping down my father’s cheek. I imagined how difficult it was that the weather didn’t match their somber grief. Our clothes were black and dusty, making the suffocating heat unbearable. Eventually, everyone began to leave the gravesite. Friends and family walked by us to give their condolences. My father couldn’t stop crying, but my mother had stopped days ago. She was stoic, but even I was surprised at her stony, blank expression when my aunt told her how good of a mother she had been. It was hard having a brother who didn’t outlive his mother. ...