Few men could stand the fire in her stare. She was hesitant, but whatever started that flame could not die. But she was like the unruly waves of the ocean that call out to an audacious sailor. She gave herself, then she withheld. She gave, then she retracted.
Precisely two years ago the man she loved had walked out that door – she screwed her eyes on it and felt nothing – days later she had received a call
“Hello, report on Mr. Dubois?”
“Yes” she squealed
“Today we located his body on the shores of Fonte-Ambre” Continue reading “Pearled Embers”