With Love, Always

By Kait Leonard

Today, I could see her clearly, standing at the cherrywood desk, eyes dreamy, unfocused. Exploring a memory? Of me, perhaps?

I ached to flick her earlobe, that thing I did. She would always laugh before slapping at my hand. When had that started? Long before we said our vows. I still remember that much.

She held an envelope the color of peonies. I smiled. She wrote letters “to keep the art alive,” she always said. Now, sliding her tongue across the glossy glue, she sealed her thoughts. Then abruptly, she turned, looked toward me, cocked her head. Awareness?

I reached out, but as always before the touch, I dispersed, wafting through the air like the dust from a butterfly’s wings.

She walked through the essence of me, as she always had.


Kait Leonard loves characters more than stories and believes that writing should be about introducing amazing people, whether real or those who should be real, to readers. She shares her home in Los Angeles with five parrots and her huge American bulldog, Seeger. 

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