Monday, June 30, 2014

More from the Mermaid Arms

Best they left in the morning, even if he was a louse to throw them out.  She’d only make things worse.  Her and her girls.  
   Going around to the side of the house, he looked up toward the light coming from Number Five.
   She was there, silhouetted, leaning against the window, traced in silver from starlight. 
   To his eternal shame, his body reacted to the vision of her, wanting to take her in his arms and hold her, smell her hair, feel the softness of her body against his.
   How much torture could one man take?

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