She accepted her fate. A lamb led to the slaughter. Sacrifice on the altar of his need. Open to the satisfaction brought with knowing he feasted on her desire like a newborn at the tit. It was a mutual destruction. A fire that would consume them. A perfect death.
Sometimes I get silly and make my heroine think things that I honestly don’t believe a real human could have ever thought up. But the fact that things like this are hidden throughout libraries everywhere, makes me ponder; maybe someone has thought these thoughts. Else why would they be written anywhere ever?
I’ve accepted I won’t win Nano this year. But I’m writing. Mission accomplished?