Too late; my awkwardness had already made an unforgettable appearance, so, of course, I couldn’t be let off the hook.

Geoff’s arm emanated with a solid warmth I longed for after our days aboard S.S.
British-Craphole.

Despite the cold chill, she burned inside with a hunger she didn’t want to dismiss. Not tonight.

He stroked her back and kept a fierce grip on her like she’d fade away into one of the thousands of ghosts in this cemetery.

Like a firework, a person’s life flashed brightest right before expiration.

Ice upon ice, and yet, inside, she melted and mourned all the same.