Softly, his hand caresses my cheek; his soft palm and fingertips resting on the contours of my face. His thumb is under my eye, slowly stroking the bags smooth before they snap back to place.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says.
“Liar.”
But I believe him. And why not? That’s love.
Aww, man. I loved that story. My favorites are the short short stories that start somewhere in the middle, and ends before you know what’s going on! lol. Read my story called Memories (not Park 2)! And tell me what you think.
Just what I needed while going through my bitter stage…keep it up!
hmmmmmmm…. love…. maybe this will be my year…
Just discovered your blog. Its cool. Recently bought an iPod and hope to get into this podcasting thang. I live in Sydney Australia. Thanks
This is my first listen to your blogcast. You have such a delightfull voice, and are quite the story teller. I shall listen to all the rest.
–q