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Damn. I was maybe gonna masturbate to him later. That dream is dead now.
That instant when you spy in someone else the missing piece of your soul.
Why don’t I ever write what happens to those people after they’re dumped?
I really need to think about the damage I inflict on fictional people.
Yes. Three guys in balaclavas. I don’t believe it at first, either.
“Stop,” I say. My voice is harsh, almost guttural. Julia looks up in wide-eyed surprise. I get on my knees, lean over, and flip the laptop lid closed. She gazes up at me, a playful, knowing light in her eyes.
I’ve never had a hunger that I couldn’t satisfy.
It’s not knowing that’s the hardest part of all.
You could wreck the Titanic on that gaze.
