rivers_bend

cut for picture for those dial up types



Michael reached out to touch her left hand. He left a trail of fire along her arm on the way and she felt fragile and delicate. Doctor’s hands, skilled in thousands of small movements, rendered nothing but receptacles for his touch. Their fingers curled together naturally and it was as though she had never handled anything else.

In the next second he was gone and the noise of the prison intruded. She was sure the hand he touched looked different, marked. Sara brought it to her lips, just for a second, and knew that she was his for good now.



drabble... interesting experiment... hard to write exactly 100 words, but not nearly as hard as I thought. Hand obsession may be getting slightly out of... well, hand.