Feather Circles
Some fiction, some thoughts, some other things.
Friday, October 8, 2010
10 Minutes Off
She liked the kind of voice that didn't announce itself, a low flame licking over charcoal. What came next pierced the air like an ice pick: One hour, ladies, and where is the pianist?
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment