Isabella Black walked into the living room of her childhood home, her hand instinctually moving to the light switch beside the door. Realizing the early morning light allowed enough light to stream through the glass doors, she decided against it. Instead she took off her jacket, shivering from the contrast of the outside winter weather …
What I had with John was a thunderstorm. It was full of lightening and wind and drama and passion.
The Jarlena Journal 