3

Anna and the French Kiss

Atlanta was home for almost eighteen years, and though I’ve only known Paris for the last nine months, it’s changed me. I have a new city to learn next year, but I’m not scared.
Because I was right. For the two of us, home isn’t a place. It’s a person.
And we’re finally home.

Lola and the Boy Next Door

“Are you ready?” he asks.
“I am.”
“Are you scared?”
“I’m not.”
He takes my hand and squeezes it. I hold my head high toward my big entrance, hand in hand with the boy who gave me the moon and the stars.

Isla and the Happily Ever After

“The last page.” He gestures towards the table, where a pencilled sketch is being turned into inked brushstrokes. It’s a drawing of us, in this café, in this moment.
I smile up at him. “It’s beautiful. But what comes next?”
“The best part.” And he pulls me back into his arms. “The happily ever after.”

8

This warmth over the telephone. Is it possible for home to be a person and not a place? Bridgette used to be home to me. Maybe St. Clair is my new home. I mull this over as our voices grow tired and we stop talking. We just keep each other company. My breath. His breath. My breath. His breath. I could never tell him, but it’s true. This is home. The two of us. Anna and the French Kiss

3

I’m surprised by how much I’ll miss France. Atlanta was home for almost eighteen years, and though I’ve only known Paris for the last nine months, it’s changed me. I have a new city to learn next year, but I’m not scared.

Because I was right. For the two of us, home isn’t a place. It’s a person.

And we’re finally home.

Text
Photo
Quote
Link
Chat
Audio
Video