by Aaron Rowley
I drove her to the airport. It was one of those ugly spring mornings after the snow thaws but before the world comes back to life when everything is a dull, muddy gray. We spent the drive talking about nothing. I stopped in front of her terminal and let her out. She begged me to take her back. I said no and felt terrible because I didn't feel worse.
Aaron Rowley lives in Mississippi with his wife.