PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Things might have been easier if she’d had a phone. He bought her one once, the simplest one he could find, programmed it to dial him at the press of a button, but she never called and though he tried calling her many times, she never answered. When he asked her about it, she’d said she had lost the phone but later he found it smashed under a big rock over by the well. She was a confirmed Luddite, said if anyone wanted to talk to her they could come to her door. She was categorically independent that way, not needing or even wanting anything from anyone. He'd known her for a long time and until recently it had been merely surface attraction. He was aware of her previous relationship and the damage it had done though not from her mouth but through the grapevine. Out of those injuries sustained, that intricate scarring, were formed uncommon sensibilities and strange idiosyncrasies which gave her an extraordinary tough-as-nails kind of strength. That same vehemence was like a moat around her heart. And it be shark-infested water indeed. Only by a Heaven-sent devotion had he learned that the swim was  well worth it.