patricia-lauren-bordeaux

He stood just near the club__ steps, his back to me along the foggy English night, and it was not until I__ passed him and began my ascent of the many steps that I__ heard his voice. The voice I knew, in all my years of living upon the Earth, that I would never forget. Even then I had known this. It was the slippery way of his tongue, or perhaps it was the coolness of which his words passed across the air and slid its way into my ears as though they were only meant for me.