Ralph Pullins

This came from another of those one-word story prompts that my publisher did for the year.  The word for August was "heat."  --------------- Heat What he remembers most is her heat. She would get up for work before he did because she had a longer commute.   He would feel her get up, get out of bed, hear her start the shower, and because he could, he stayed in bed for an extra half-hour longer than her.   He would slide his hand through the sheets, under the blankets and feel for her warmth still radiating from where she had been sleeping.   She would come back, lean in, her hair still wet, her skin hot and flushed from the shower, kiss him goodbye.   They wouldn’t see each other again until the evening, and sometimes that seemed hard, being away from her all day, and feeling her warm place in bed was a way to have her close for just a little while longer. He sits now, looking out the sliding glass door, his eyes roaming over the backyard.   It snowed last night while he slep

This came from another of those one-word story prompts that my publisher did for the year.  The word for August was "heat."  --------------- Heat What he remembers most is her heat. She would get up for work before he did because she had a longer commute.   He would feel her get up, get out of bed, hear her start the shower, and because he could, he stayed in bed for an extra half-hour longer than her.   He would slide his hand through the sheets, under the blankets and feel for her warmth still radiating from where she had been sleeping.   She would come back, lean in, her hair still wet, her skin hot and flushed from the shower, kiss him goodbye.   They wouldn’t see each other again until the evening, and sometimes that seemed hard, being away from her all day, and feeling her warm place in bed was a way to have her close for just a little while longer. He sits now, looking out the sliding glass door, his eyes roaming over the backyard.   It snowed last