Jennifer Hartmann

then I’m thinking about her, the woman in the window, her hair light and sunny like the carpeting and undoubtedly just as soft. She told me her name was Syd, and she reeked of familiarity… but how could it be? How could she be my Syd?

My Syd was a fabrication.

My Syd was an artificial companion brought to life by my insatiable need to quell the loneliness.

I created her with the lead from my pencil tip and my own imagination.

Queen of the Lotus.

I hated finalities more than I hated loose ends

You’ve made me a better man