rogue_sailor

Diane leaned back in her worn armchair, the Arizona sun filtering through the blinds of her off-campus apartment like lazy laser beams cutting through dust motes. It was one of those quiet afternoons

The snow-crusted boots piled up by the door at Jimmy's like a haphazard mountain range, and the air inside hung thick with the scent of fried onions and spilled beer. Diane laughed as her friend Sarah

Diane stepped into the hotel bar in Aspen, her scrubs swapped for a simple black sweater and jeans that hugged her legs after a long shift at the hospital. The place hummed with the low buzz of conver

The air in the Grand Tasting tent hummed with the low buzz of conversations and the clink of glasses, but Diane zeroed in on the sharp tang of oak and blackberry from the California red she'd just swi

The après-ski party thrummed with the kind of chaos that only a mountain bar packed with ski-bum locals and weekend warriors could muster. Diane laughed as she swirled her third glass of pinot noir, h

Diane had always been a creature of routine—twelve-hour night shifts at the hospital, followed by a deep, dreamless sleep that lasted until the afternoon sun slanted through her bedroom window. The sk