Their love was fire. And fire is catching. It catches onto simple things like material, food, objects. You name it. Their love was set to burn in flames. They didn't feel it physically, but mentally it burned. It hurt. It was worse than any Third Degree burn. Much worse.
When you handle a rose you have to be precise. You can't hold it by the delicate roses in horror of crushing them. And you have to be careful not to prick your fingers on the thorns of the stem. You must hold it in between the thorns, grasping onto green stem, hoping it wouldn't cut you. ------------- @nobodyIove...
❝strikes of lightning, hit the pole, ending life immediately.❞ [ prequel to 'thunderstorms', you don't need to read thunderstorms to understand this, but i highly recommend it. ] highest ranking: #483 under short story
he made the loud sound seem like nothing but a distant memory.