“Marlena, where does this box go?” John’s voice reverberates in the foyer of their spacious new purchase. His grip on the moderately heavy box in his arms begins to falter, and when Marlena does not answer right away, he calls for her again, “Marlena!” “Which one?” Marlena’s voice rings out from another room, crisp and …
What I had with John was a thunderstorm. It was full of lightening and wind and drama and passion.
The Jarlena Journal 