Her face is a good land for mining.
It is covered by diamonds of darkling sweat.
Would she just wake her senses and sit?
You enter and your soul evaporate from your body, the keys slip out of your hand. Headache pays rent on your mind and a serious confusion plays a familiar symphony on the background. Bodies lay in awkward positions. You make out dear Kimberly’s frail body, her face hidden behind the cushion, her legs sprawled like she was raped but she wasn’t, it’s worst.