March 23rd, xxxy
SOMETHING WANTS TO NAG at Precious.
It wants to snarl, sneer and snide. It wants to tell him toxic jargons, mess with his peace of mind, turn his head towards a darkening corner, stub his toe on a mental Lego.
It slides down the door, its whispers unable to be heard through the peephole.
So, this is the wonders of a rested mind, Precious awes. Not only can you think clearly, see better, work effectively, your mental defenses are strong. Not cracked at the edges, shaking against the flood on the other side.
I can get used to this, Precious concludes. This is great. More the best in Kamil's arms. Slumped on Kamil's body on the bed, Precious listens to the steady pump of Kamil's heart, the constancy soothing.
Ever so often, a slight tremor will coarse through his body at Kamil's big toe rubbing the ticklish flesh of his ankle.
