... When his hand recoiled violently the speaker quieted once more, engulfing him with silence and questions. Waves of forgotten memories beat against his haggard mind in a sudden, dizzying rush. He could see her face again, her features soft against the afternoon sun as she sat by the window reading a book. He remembered the way her hair fell upon her shoulders, and how she would bite her lower lip during the particularly suspenseful passages. But that had been another time, another life, one that he didn't relish reliving; so why was he succumbing to this strange nostalgia? ...
Sentence No. 18
He could see her face again, her features soft against the afternoon sun as she sat by the window reading a book.
Submitted on April 8, 2012, 10:58 p.m. by secondmatter
That time their tire had blown out on the way to the beach, the way that she'd crinkle her nose when she laughed, the smell of her hair.
Submitted on April 9, 2012, 3:58 a.m. by deusmachina
His fingers brushed the device, just enough so he could hear that tantalizingly haunting voice.
Submitted on April 8, 2012, 10:35 p.m. by Nelson1995