He continues to lie on the pristine and polished wooden floor of his shop, looking up and imagining. He dreams of adventure and romance. He dreams of unknown dangers through doors that will close with every new wall he builds. He dreams of feeling the curiosity and surprise he saw in Ingvie’s eyes this morning. He dreams of something new. And that’s when he places the aching grief that has thundered in his ribs; it’s not just the sting of thwarted romance, but the hope that somehow love—this love—could save him from the fear of a known future. A road of safety and softness that he’s still too
...more
