The Moon
Soft. Her heels clicked behind me. Soft. The baying of a chained dog. Soft. The rumbling through her purse for lipstick, to make her kisses vivid. Soft. The smoke of grilled barbeque and… Continue reading
Soft. Her heels clicked behind me. Soft. The baying of a chained dog. Soft. The rumbling through her purse for lipstick, to make her kisses vivid. Soft. The smoke of grilled barbeque and… Continue reading