“I don’t believe it was suicide,” she said. He agreed, then, with that knowing smile on his face, he pushed her off the cliff.
For his writing instruments, Marcus uses fountain pens made from black ivory and blessed by a witch doctor in New Guinea. He lances the blood from his very veins to provide these pens with the only kind of ink that appeases their hunger, lest something unfortunate happens to him.
I’m sorry your last girlfriend didn’t like it when you spoke to her in metaphors, but she obviously didn’t know what you were worth. Just as a treasure chest is never left in plain sight, one must dig a little deeper to find the treasure within your words.
I had long grown accustomed to the light that shone off her face like mystic white porcelain when the darkness of night surrounded us that was not from the glow of candlelight but was rather produced by the screen of the laptop she balanced on top of her thighs.
As the steady tap-tap-tap of the keyboard under her pretty-but-agile little fingers lulled me nearly to sleep, I took in a deep, fulfilling breath and sighed with the pleasure of knowing that my beloved wasn’t just any woman – she was a writer.