The Wayward Sister
By JJ • Jan 24th, 2008 • Category: LiteratureIt was the wind that woke her, bringing a cloud of dirt and the revolting odour she now realised had come from her own putrid limbs.
It was the wind that woke her, bringing a cloud of dirt and the revolting odour she now realised had come from her own putrid limbs.
It was early Sunday morning when he snuck back into bed, squeezing in beside his wife, arms wrapped around their child, it seemed she had not moved since he had and never noticed his departure.
She felt as though she was spiraling to hell as she ran breathlessly down the hill. She was not a runner, she had not done this often, but there was a man chasing her and she had seen out of the corner of her eye, the danger he carried in his right hand, its barrel […]