FiftyWordStory #7

His hair drew me to him, so curly and so soft. You don’t suspect something like that to turn on you – why would you? – which is why I never felt the curls worming their way into my heart until the day that they hardened, becoming screws, drilling me to pieces.

FiftyWordStory #2

The dim light from above fell on his face in a way that bronzed and honeyed his already warm, glowing skin. I wanted to reach across the table and touch it, just to see if it was as scalding hot as it looked, but what if it was?