Description
"John, There was a time long ago when we knew each other, when I was young and reckless and you smelt of sunshine and mint. When your skin was still kissed bronze and your lungs had been soaked with summer wind. Do you remember? It radiated off of you like some type of holy cologne, and for months I failed in pinpointing exactly where it began. For a while I thought it was in the croak of your voice, or the color of your smile, even perhaps in the crooks of your elbows. But it was only after you held me for the first time that I realized it didn't come from any of those places. It began in the cavity of your chest, pumped into the vessels of your arms, radiating through your eyes. It began in the deepest part of your being, and from there, spread into the rest. It was a part of you. You used to smell like sunshine and mint. And here you are now years later, drinking your days away like life has broken you; you've already had an eternity and couldn't give a damn. What has happened to you, John? What has happened to the man of sunshine and mint?" In which Lorraine Woods writes to save John Williams. Warning: Contains coarse language and mature themes Copyright © 2017 by heykalahari
Foreword.
