It was only a second’s fraction, a skin’s particle passing by within the beat of an eyelash; but yet, she longed to believe that his touch was anything but accidental.
He wouldn’t ask the exact amount, but he knew the number of Sarah’s previous partners couldn’t be counted on two hands.
She thought Sophie didn’t look that pretty on her wedding day. But she didn’t know that one hour from the ceremony the flowers hadn’t arrived yet and Sophie’s dress ripped on the side, at the height of the shoulder blazes – the place Mark would have covered with his arm while sleeping if the night before they hadn’t quarreled and slept on the opposite sides of the bed.
To Camille, there were two types of people: those who sat slovenly on the sunny side of the bench and those who squeezed under the shade of the tree.
Despite those around her see her crouching over her laptop with frowned forehead and bitten lower lip, she sometimes stops her focus on writing to wonder over e-commerce websites, filling up shopping carts she wouldn’t buy.
“Anything to add, Laura?”
Laura flinches and looks around at her colleagues, who pretend to be too busy with the papers they have been provided.
She points out at the corner of the room where the spiders have crept in, but their existence can’t be demonstrated any longer.
“Right,” is the one of the last words she will ever hear from Crane.
Thanks to The Devil’s Dictionary