linesbylyons
With one fluid, graceful motion, he lifted her hand and allowed his lips to connect with her fragrant, supple skin, for a fleeting moment that would be remembered as their first--and last--kiss.
She awoke with a start, wondering what how long she had been asleep. Glancing toward the bed, she saw he was kicking at his covers, his hair dripping with sweat. She raced to the call button and requested a cold compress, asked if it was time for more medication.
A girl I knew during my teens and early twenties said this a lot. "It's a blast." "Living away from home is a blast." "We'll have a blast." I always wondered why other descriptors never seemed to apply. Fun. Liberating. Something.
Loss is something with which I have far too much experience. Despite the sadness it evokes, I am appreciative of the ability loss has had to help me be better appreciative of the numerous blessings I have in my life.