The Honey Sun
She walked with her right hand over her heart the other in her pocket clutching a tiny coin purse. She looked younger than most 85-year-olds, was well aware of this, cursed god for tricking her into thinking she was still too young to die. She sat on a bench. A voice said: "Are you mad?" She faced the familiar young woman - "No, I'm quite all right." She stared at her past, her forgotten smooth round face, full cherry lips, opal eyes, wavy, spun-silk hair. She inhaled the smell of cut grass, toasted pretzels, and the moisture from the conservatory pool. She heard the laughing children, barking dogs. She felt a breezy kiss on her lips, tasted the honey sun on her tongue.
Gessy Alvarez received her MFA from Columbia University. Her fiction and poetry have appeared in Letras Caseras, PANK, Spectrum, Thrice Fiction, The Rose and the Thorn and other fine places.