This is the first time I’ve written in response to a prompt for #anything, but this is for #wankwednesday. I hope this is a good start. – X
She stooped suddenly to tie the ribbon at her ankle, and he bumped into her.
He was so hard she yipped before looking behind her. His face was twisted in a grimace of lust and misery.
“Timothy?” He was both familiar and strange, the face you see so often it blends into the crowd, becoming invisible.
She had been so focused on herself she’d never seen him following her form as she danced across the floor along with the other women. He’d been the unseen hand always ready with a cold bottled water or a fresh towel to dry the sweat from her limbs, whispering advice or encouragement.
Dancers appeared and disappeared in the shadows backstage – powdered wraiths, silent with concentration…
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Cómo sabría amarte, mujer, cómo sabría
amarte, amarte como nadie supo jamás!
Morir y todavía