First love (lust) is sweet.
Midnight phone calls, hearts pounding
between the kisses.
Copyright – Danny Bowman
He knew he might wake her but he just needed to tell her.
So he slid a quarter into the metallic hole and tapped out the numbers, listening to the far off, tunnel-like buzzing with his hand stuffed in his front pocket and digging the toe of his sneaker into the cracked pavement.
“’lo” she breathed in a sleepy, husky voice.
“Hey” he answered, imagining her rolling to her back, cradling the receiver. “I miss you, babe.”
Her chuckle was a dreamy flirt, ‘Eric, you just left.”
“I know, but I didn’t get to say sw.…”
“…eet dreams handsome.” she finished for him.
a picture, 100 words, a community of incredible writers.
Happy Writing, thanks for stopping by!