kim-fuchs

Of all the people I've known, all the ones whose hands I've held and whose cheeks I've kissed, and the ones with whom I've sat in the grass while the darkness fractured into a thousand effulgent stars, I have loved none like I once loved Charlie Rose. Of course, back then, I knew him primarily as Prince Charming. It wasn't until much later that I realized the irony of the nickname; I was not a child capable of teasing or wit, but there was certainly nothing charming about him when I found him. His hair was matted and tangled, his skin covered in dirt and grime and shadow, his eyes wild. He crouched shivering in a far corner of the barn, bli