"Right here
beside a living, breathing human being who cares for me. I can see it in the cool lagoons of his eyes, hear it in the timbre of his voice when he speaks my name.
Right here.
Where the warmth of his skin tempers the February cold and the thinnest beam of his inner light overcomes winters pall. He is a candle in the wilderness.
Right here.
Where the omnipresent Spector of death takes flight, awed by the power of the two of us, hearts beating in unison, as we stumble through the darkness
Toward one another."
- Ellen Hopkins, Smoke
YOU ARE READING
Short Stories
RandomThis is a continuation of the other Random Stories. Enjoy and always open to suggestions
