Member-only story
Someone once said; “The tools of love wear down, time passes” … and so it was for me. The reliable tool, the one that I had discovered so accidentally in that Chinese joint, was worn to a state of uselessness. I had no idea what to do.
I had met the man of my dreams and all seemed great and then, it just stopped. I sure did love him still just … the juices weren’t flowing anymore. I was feeling sick, trapped, selfish. Then, I realized why he was such a good man. Such a good, caring … giving man.
Written by Rebecca Milton
Published by AmorBooks
You have to be silent. Church silent. Middle of the classroom, during a test, silent. That’s not easy. Not for me. I want to sigh. I want to jump up and yell. I want to turn to the person next to me and ask what do you think? How do you feel? Does it make sense? Isn’t this thrilling?
“Don’t you think this is thrilling?” I asked, and he smiled at me, took my hand and squeezed it. Well, that sent rockets red glare through my body and soul, and I knew he was a keeper. We had gotten the stink eye from a stylish hatted matron, patron of the event, and we stifled our glee. Eyes forward, heart pounding, waiting, wanting, wishing. Secretly in the mind, wishing for some good words, some proclamations about liberty and humanity. Maybe even some sort of apology. You never…
