jojochi
his whiskey lingered on her lips long after the kiss ended. smooth and warm.
dust motes floated in the sun filtering through the smudged window as she ran her hands along the frayed bindings on the ancient bookshelf. the smell of must and mold enveloped her.
My throat scratched like a wooly sweater. My voice as raspy as a 20 year pack a day smoker. I'd kill for just one cool sip.