Marlena nervously wrung her hands together as she sat in the vacant waiting room, fearing the worst yet somehow praying for the best. Her normally cool composure had abandoned her days before when she realized the severity of her predicament. A myriad of what-ifs danced in her head as a macabre picture of possible scenarios …
What I had with John was a thunderstorm. It was full of lightening and wind and drama and passion.
The Jarlena Journal 