First you set out to save her and then you are her victim. She always leaves you begging for more.
She was with me last night. It was raining outside and here in this moist cave we made out like it was the end of the world. I don’t remember when I fell asleep; I had held her tight so she couldn’t leave. But she is gone – the plop of the drops from the roof on my forehead an enticing reminder of her presence… The memory of her touch still etched on my skin…
Layla… the temptress, the serpentine temptress!
Friday Flash Fiction for Madison’s awesome prompt for the week(Great click Madison! Thanks for sharing):
Also, enjoy the song while you are here! 🙂