Water pellets wounded her skin, the drumming of liquid streaming down the foggy glass shower doors. Her fragile body rocked back and forth, the oppressive hum of the shower wrestling in her ears. Glaring at the wall, she winced everytime the warm water touched her face. Wrapping her arms around her knee's, she continued to …
What I had with John was a thunderstorm. It was full of lightening and wind and drama and passion.
The Jarlena Journal 