My quarterly post

Pluto's Lot

Sure, he'd been told about long-distance
relationships, how they never work, but still
he'd not realized how quiet the house
would seem. And she was always leaving
things behind, as if on purpose—a stocking
redolent with that scent, which he never could
pronounce; worse still, the Victoria's Secret
catalogue she'd forgotten to forward.
His friends would note her absence
at parties; he'd leave early and call,
hoping not to wake her mother,
begging her to talk sexy over the phone.