I threw my black leather gloves into my handbag as I came through the front door. I could smell the icing sugar that coated my fingers, the stickiness causing an uncomfortable feeling. I felt so drained… so tired. And again I asked myself why I had been there… why had I woken at Alice’s house, …
What I had with John was a thunderstorm. It was full of lightening and wind and drama and passion.
The Jarlena Journal 