Green Horizons
Fiction by Thuy Ngo // art by Wesley Vara

We were laying on the grass in the darkness next to one another. We laid there worn and torn after a good day's long hussel and work. There was one way out of it all. Sleep. In the darkness of night, the sky was a velvet canvas filled with stars and non too tempting or extraordinary that pulled us out of our ordinary present. My search for him stopped, knowing as I laid there next to him. I knew I would never reach that part of him that I wanted. It came to a point when none was too laden with trust was willing to aggrevate the need, the suculent want to close our eyes and give in to the last moment's breath and let go.   Let sleep pave its way. I guess that's where familiarity draws its sacred lines to where sleep is the main content of our conversations. I stopped and looked at him for a moment. He was already asleep before me, my angel. When I came to find him, it came to a point where love and trust was the main search, the cause to search for him. A search to step away from the denial that I loved him; to step away from the moment resentment, regret, knowing that he was really for someone else. But here he is with me. A friend. That's what we were to each other, but in my heart he is my angel with no regrets.