Try Not To Remember

Our home is cold inside. Drapes and blinds are closed tightly, keeping out the pale light from the full moon. I awaken suddenly, hearing the sound of the fireplace crackling as the wood burns down to ashes. The bed under my body feels cold. A warm, abundant flow of liquid moves toward me. I feel a syrup-like substance, the texture warm and smooth.

© 2022 Author's Republic (Hljóðbók): 9798823422239

Útgáfudagur

Hljóðbók: 29 september 2022