She lost her keys.
Vanessa was frantic, pacing,
but I closed my eyes—
and saw.
"They’re in the garden, beneath the jasmine,"
I said.
She blinked.
“How did you know?”
I said nothing.
But I’ve always known—
when she lies,
when she leaves,
when another man’s scent follows her home.
I dream it first,
then watch it unfold.
Before thunder,
I feel it in my spine.
Before love dies,
I mourn it in...
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