One John Black waited impatiently for a glimpse of her coming down the stairs. He clutched the iron bars of his cell as he listened to the sound of Abe Carver, his best friend, talking softly, straining to hear the voice of his beloved. She was silent and John couldn’t help but fear the …
What I had with John was a thunderstorm. It was full of lightening and wind and drama and passion.
The Jarlena Journal 