The beginning


He saw her standing before the windowpane. She was admiring the wives in their fancy dresses. He rested the cup on saucer, and with closed eyes imagined her lips with his own. She would pull away at first due to shyness, yet eventually succumb to his aggressive advance. Her paleness flushed readily, nipples taut through her oversized sweater pressed against his chest. He has won her heart easily as she longs to be kept.

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Published by: her mourning coffee

Walking a fine line between genius and insanity. My words are raw, sometimes visceral, and vulgar.  I write to settle my thoughts.  I have triggers that extract emotional immaturity, deep- rooted fears, anger, insecurity, vulnerability, yet I heal with every stroke of the pen.  I might be that monster.  I sometimes scare myself.  Please keep this in mind as you read.  I do not wish to provoke you, though stories need to be told. *not all posts are in real time

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