"What exactly would you say about it?"
She'd been nursing that idea since the break of the stanced argument. She would do everything to sew or well, cobble the broken. She needed to know his stance. You could scarcely make meaning of the position of such a guy!
She kept abreast each rhythmic sway tossed by his voluptuous visage. At a point, he seemed to smile. Bewitching other, he was serious. Like a confetti of mystery merged by inky idiosyncrasies. Though she admired sundry things in him, yet there was more to be known about him. She should appreciate him. Matter-of-factly, he was her hewn husband! And what do you do to what is hewn?
Her attention was smothered by the whispering waves of the sea to the wanky wind. She wished she could make meaning of the coded converse that ensues between natural elements. Sometimes, she wished she were the tumbling tide that nosy nymph toss abo
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