Thursday, June 10, 2010

thirstday's excerpt

Even from this distance, she was a vision. Body of sweet cream. Hair of chocolate, spilling everywhere, but deliciously. As he stepped closer, her dress and face became clearer.

She sang in English, but in a dialect he could not place.

“I long to sit and talk with you by the shore” sounded so rich and sweet and alluring. “I lawng to sit and tawk with you by the shoowa.”