"He met my eyes with his penetrating gaze. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. The temperature in the room spiked into the tropical range. My heart pounded in my chest like a ritual drum, and my knees threatened to buckle. I'd never seen such a gorgeous male. My logical mind engaged in a futile attempt to regain my attention...

Only three hours had passed since Ethel had startled Ernest from his sombre reveries, but within this brief space their love had matured as if each hour had been a year. The pallor had vanished from his cheeks and the restiveness from his eyes.

Walking along the path you built,
Searching for the life you lost,
Darkened skies and greystone cobbles pave your way.
Stumbling and picking yourself up again and again,
Stopping to wonder if life is worth finding but you always continue on.
Sometimes you get the courage to look back. All you see are corpses rotting away.
Almost choking, nearly gagging, riddled with guilt,
The life you lost you threw away, not caring at what expense or cost.
Not caring what others think, do or say.

The freakish little leader of the orchestra, newly imported from Sicily to New York, tossed his conductor's wand excitedly through the air, drowning with musical thunders the hum of conversation and the clatter of plates.

Terrible as was his loneliness, a meeting with Jack would have been more terrible. And, after all, it was true, a gulf had opened between them.