“210,” Marlena repeated aloud as she drew an “x” on the calendar. Two hundred and ten days since she’d seen John. Two hundred and ten days since he’d left on yet another ISA mission. Two hundred and ten days since she hadn’t felt like half of her heart was somewhere else, somewhere far and distant. …
What I had with John was a thunderstorm. It was full of lightening and wind and drama and passion.
The Jarlena Journal 