September 2011
1 post
By the time he reached the middle of the plaza it was too late she was gone. The smell and taste of blood and sweat running down his face was all he could feel. The aroma of her perfume hung in the air like a fly pestering him. The moment had passed him, he could not save her, for the first time he felt like a man. Imperfection and weakness were the traits he wore shamefully like a badge for...