by Tracy Shields
I remember us driving through the mountains up from Boulder to Nederland. The fog laying thick on us like a heavy blanket as we swooshed slowly up narrow, curvy roads. It was Spring and wet and cold and Ray La Montagne’s "Empty" played over and over again. We pulled over on the switchbacks to click pictures of the cliffs and canyons, and to make love like twentysomethings, imprinting the dashboard on our backs. I told you, we will never, never, never, never, ever, ever end. Way before the goodbye and the day you gave me back all those photos.
Tracy Shields graduated from Rutgers University, magna cum laude, with a degree in English Literature and Journalism. She was Concept Editor of the Painted Bride Quarterly from 2001-2006. She currently works and writes from home in New Jersey and has two beautiful sons, Daniel and Julien. Her short story “Stay” is forthcoming in Word Riot. Please visit her here.