The diagram of red lights playing on the ceiling - some devil mark, some curse? Like Germanicus finding a slaughtered hen stowed beneath loose floor tiles,

What excites me is when I look Deep, deep yet deeper into you eyes And see the love reflecting back at me Your eyes shimmer like light refracting rain drops

Priestess obliges the guard to give her pleasure after he threatened her with rape.

Sam Beason, class of 1988, sauntered into his old locker room. Not much has changed in fifteen years, he thought. He was back in Danville for the funeral of his Mom's only sibling, Jean Grogan.

Roxie Bennett, twenty-seven, felt she had lived twice that long. Life was dreary. Her plain attire, mousy brown hair, and close-set eyes did little to distinguish her from the crowd.

The soft blue stage lights silhouetted her. The small and intimate club was packed with eager fans, silent in anticipation, patiently waiting for their musical journey to begin.

It was just getting down to winter, with the last of the dead leaves blustering about along the deserted streets.

Frisbees do what they are supposed to do They skim and skip on sheets of air Light and breezy Suspended on crests of waves like Surfers on water