Coleman Bomar
Six Feet
You put the flowers down on the drive way and back up. She bends, bringing them to her face, pinching the mask below her nose, and smiles. You can tell by her eyes. You’re glad the residual Clorox odor isn’t overwhelming. You sterilized the stems. Hopefully that doesn’t kill them. At least the flowers still smell like flowers. It’s assuring to see her move in front of you, tangible, existing outside the palm of your hand, that flat laggy reality. You talk a little louder, to close the gap. Imagine an embrace. Imagine flowers that you can just hand and she can just smell. You try.
About the writer:
Coleman Bomar is a writer who currently resides in Middle Tennessee. His works have been featured by and/or are forthcoming in Drunk Monkeys, Plum Tree Tavern, Nine Muses Review, Showbear, Family Circus Liberal Arts Magazine, Prometheus Dreaming, SOFTBLOW, Eunoia Review, Beyond Words, Bewildering Stories, Isacoustic, Nine Muses Poetry and more.
Image: Separation 17 by Yogesh Sutar. Oil on canvas. 24 x 30 inches. By 2016. By free license.
