I watch her. She doesn't notice, or if she does, she doesn't acknowledge it. She sits at her lit companion desk and clicks away on her keyboard. It keeps her interest. Which means I get to watch her. And remember. She rises and walks over to a file cabinet, giving me a glimpse of her …
What I had with John was a thunderstorm. It was full of lightening and wind and drama and passion.
The Jarlena Journal 