Index - Profile - Archives - Notes - DiaryLand - Random ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bed Time. There is still that singular perfection, and it's perfect in part because it seemed, at the time, so clearly to promise more. Now she knows: That was the moment, right then. There has been no other. . . . At the stop light, Bell and Arden, a hand reached out of the driver's side window of the truck behind me. The face of the driver cleverly hidden behind a tinted windshield. The hand caressed the car, stroking a small space below the side mirror, gently, in circles. It was the single most erotic thing I've seen in months. . . And, I talked to this boy tonight. He has a perfectly wonderful voice. You know, the kind that sounds like honey. 8:00 p.m. - 2003-04-17 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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