When he kissed me, his lips soft and careful, it was all the thrill of our first kiss and all the practiced familiarity of the accumulated memory of all our kisses.
When he kissed me, his lips soft and careful, it was all the thrill of our first kiss and all the practiced familiarity of the accumulated memory of all our kisses.
As I handed her the bag, the old scars on my wrist throbbed with buried memories.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories