Whispered prayers and kisses from missed connections were the adhesive that held each piece of glitter in place.
Her gaze danced along the rust-lined cracks of the pole and played connect-the-dots with the reflected fragments.
She smiled and looked to the left.
“See that large speck up there? That one is my favorite.” she said
“Why?” I asked
“It smells like infinite possibilities, past lives, and a freshly grilled shrimp taco.” she said
It was my turn to smile. Who could argue?
“Checkmate.” I said