This is part of the April 2013 A-Z Challenge. Enjoy!
Green Vineyard at Ithaca
I hear voices in the distance; the moans increase to a crescendo.
"Marta . . ."
"John . . ."
Recognizing your voice, I quietly walk down the path and peer through the vines. Yours eyes meet mine; her eyes also.
I whisper . . . "How could you?"
I run through the green haze and collapse in despair.