Saturday 4 January 2014

Memoirs of this Delusional Writer #37

Starting paragraph
With a sob that seemed to come from the bottom of his chest, Joel leant forward,  gathering Shane up in his arms, he tucked his face in Shane’s neck, letting the soft smell of colonel and soap, and male—Shane sink inside of him, coating ever inch. Clearing him of memories he didn’t want to have, and moments in life he never wanted to see.
Trusting Your Eyes, page 15