December 5, 2013 § 4 Comments

They were in his car, kissing. It was a late August evening. They’d managed to find a secluded place in the otherwise crowded city. Somewhere they could express what was bursting inside them, in the form of hormones or love.

“Do you have any idea what are we doing?”, she asked him as he kissed her nape.

He stopped.
He looked into her eyes and said, “No, but I’m going with the flow. Do you want me to go with the flow?”

That very instant the radio played a Pink Floyd melody.
The next moment, she got naked.


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§ 4 Responses to Flow.

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