Three

The melody evoked rhapsody. 

Embraced in the purest love, entranced by eternal beauty, protected by the promise of mere human flesh; the boy huddled on the floor against the wall, knees pulled tightly to his chest.  The narrow hall transformed into the womb.

Oh joy. 

Moving from draw to cupboard, refrigerator to counter, she created a symphony for three.  The knife, her pen; the pot, her sheet.

She hummed the songs of her youth, from a land so very far away.

Joe De Matteo