Monday, July 28, 2025
The Gossamer Blouse
The breeze barely noticed piercing puffs through the tiny interspacial loose little rectangular voids in between the spidery strands but blew through anyway, encircling his erecting nipples.
Wait.
He grew up when boys weren't supposed to like cats. Weren't suppose to try on their mother's clothes. Weren't supposed to tell the truth.
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The narrowing of life in the third act shrinks the outer flesh of supposed reality while emboldening the bones of honesty so that all comes ...