Sage and the car.

A dream.

I like dreaming my writing. It's somehow really connected and visual like watching the film, or being in the story.

Sage leaned back in the seat and waited for the sensation she knew was coming, knowing she had to hide any reaction from her passenger.

There, the movement on her back, a soft tickle on her lower spine at waist level. Then the sharp stab. She barely flinched.

It's a fragment and I have notes for the rest of the scene, including an explanation, but that's for November…

Well,...