it has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' i do not agree. the wounds remain. in time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. but it is never gone.
air grows a little
less tense upon a
wrapped, secure
wound. no alarm
bells ringing in her
mind that urges a
sense of protection,
urgency and recovery
in her rescue - like
attributes.
she’d peel her stained
gloves off now, if
the nagging +
A wave of cool washes over him, leaning his head back over the chair. Breath stutters, then stills, and finally returns to it’s regular pace. A bead of sweat trickles down from the line of his hair to his cheek, bringing thumb up to swipe it away. He hardly heard her
wait. norton isn’t
moving ?
prior surprise turns
to something rather
bashful;
❛ yes, well, there is
more to me then
meets the eye. not
all journalists seek
on making prodding
questions their
establishments, i
assure you. ❜
+