like a pair of old wedding gloves

I remember the summer days, sitting in my grandmother's pear tree, my feet languidly dangling like her pair of old wedding gloves. I would spend hours there, just hanging, reading the warm and worn pages of her grammar book. "A cake is done, a boy is finished," I would mouth as my fingers silently danced across the page.

I remember the summer days, lying in the grass, skirt as thin as a pair of old wedding gloves. "I can't wait until I'm finished with school," I whispered. He took another bite of the pear, eyes silently dancing around the thin line between my lips. "That way," I said, "we can be together all the time." The green fruit lazily dropped to the grass, and our hands linked easily like a pair of old wedding gloves.

Today, I ate a pear. Today, I finished and assignment. And today, I felt as empty as a pair of old wedding gloves.