It is the time of year when pears hang too ripe from the trees. And when memories of adolescence and lost love cling like spiderwebs.
All that separates us is a small wooden table, an empty green bottle, a Mason jar half full of red wine, and a pear.
From the silence that grows between two people who have said all they have to say to one another, I speak.
“What are you working on?”
“Oh,” she says, “not much.”
“You know I don’t talk about my work. Not before it’s done.”
“Yeah,” I say. “You don’t talk about much ‘til it’s done.”
“A pear,” she says.
“You’re painting a pear?”
To read the whole story, go to gin + gelato's new short fiction/essay blog: Burning Sunflowers.