fiction
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Hello, my loves! I haven’t been very active recently, due to my health, but I had an idea to send out updates on all that I’m doing.
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He sobbed. Kneeling on the dusty tiles, almost as if he were praying. The cream of his suit marked with the dirt. His chest wracked with grief, with regret. With penitence as he asked God to forgive him.
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She asked did I not want to be kissed whole-heartedly and improperly by someone, not even once? I said I could not imagine it, though I could not prevent myself from ignoring my own advice and conjured many images to my mind of this very thing.
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From below came the slightest whimper of pain, a small indication of the agony he was in. She had been considerate. In her own way. Injecting him till his cries were no louder than a sigh, a soft weeping into the still, cold air.
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“Tell me, Miss Donoghue, what do you feel right now?” “Happy,” she stated. “To be here with you.”
T.M. Hanson 