A lost soul summoned to relive the body of a dying woman finds herself in a quest of unraveling the secrets of her true identity. But what if she finds out that she is only existent in someone else's mind? Retrace the path you've taken. Don't let your mind betray you. Decipher the mystery. This is the life after death story of Lenore.
View MoreThe man sat with the utmost etiquette and panache. He couldn’t take off his gaze to the woman seated adjacent to him.“It’s really you.”
"I-I-I I'm sorry Theo, I didn't mean to just enter without knocking, but I... I had an emergency. Connie puked on me and I badly need to... oh forget it, I'm sorry, I really do."Viola agitatedly remarked. She resented the thought of Connie because of what she did to her.
Her vision is now very foggy and close to becoming opaque. With eyes overflowing with tears, Connie took another gulp of her second bottle of Devil Springs Vodka. The bottle is now half empty and she hated the sight of it about to run out because she had none left to spare.‘Maybe buying only two bottles had been a terrible idea. I should’ve bought more
Viola held a clinging and passionate gaze to Connie. Her eyes were weighted very much with kindling concupiscence. The feeling was distinct and fresh to her. It was remotely inviting that it caused her shivers to rush headlong her chine like there had been an ice cube slid in the back of her shirt - sliding through her skin, thus creating her hair follicles inflate like small rounded islands with hairs stiffened after an electrifying sensation had occurred, feeling the unprecedented frost and chills; and as to how a quick delighted orgasm is described. All that was, in a nicely wrapped bundle, settled solely when her eyes rested for an intimately fixed stare on Connie.
“Vi! Wait up!”She gasped for breath upon she had finally reached for Viola’s arms.
Connie knew that would be the day that Alexandra will be discharged from the hospital. She was certain that the young lady would recover easily because she had a natural sturdy and go-getter attitude.Alexandra wasn’t her real niece. They weren’t on the same bloodline, either. The truth is, the young woman was the daughter of someone so dear to her, someone she
“Do you think it’ll be fine if I’ll leave it here for the meantime?”Leonore looked up at Sally as she was unloading herself with the piles of mattress sheets that were a variety of texture and fabric. Sally placed the mattresses with such gentleness that can only be found in women who are trained to be prim and proper or women who were bestowed wit
Sally held a clinging and warm gaze to Leonore. Her eyes were weighted very much with igniting passion. The feeling was new to her, so foreign that it brought her a tingling sensation to run down her spine, like there had been an ice cube slid in the back of her shirt - sliding through her epidermis, thus creating her hair follicles swell like small rounded islands with stiffened hairs rooted on top, feeling the unprecedented frost and chills; and as to how a quick delighted orgasm is described. All that was, in a nicely wrapped package, settled solely when her eyes rested for an intimate and passionate gaze on Leonore.She was feeling the same weight as Sally had. Perhaps, hers was way more explicit and undeniably liberating. Leonore knew, yet she had long accepted the truth that she had this attraction for women way greater than men. This thing that she had long locked up in a trunk, chained deep in her unconsciousness, just for the sake to conform with society's norms - th
Her eyes were uncontrollably polluted with confusion and fogged suddenly of a large and thick mist not coming from tears in her eyes but rather of a fainting consciousness. Alexandra blinked hardly, battling to gain still her sensibility.Darkness gradually crept into her vision. But she combatted not to give in. With dimmed eyes, Alexandra turned to look at Mother Superio
The musty-sweet smell of decaying leaves lingered in her nose, luring her with its unnatural and bewitching fragrance.Leonore was half awake and half asleep, yet her eyes were closed still. She could hear the smooth rustling of the leaves, however, even with eyes closed, she could distinguish the fresh fallen leaves from the withered and rotten ones.It was the way they were released into the air; the way they were propelled in a dreamy and lackadaisical manner heightened the main difference. The fresh fallen leaves go freely with the air, but the withered leaves were stubborn.Some of them remained tenacious on the ground, adapting already with their decomposing spirit. Some fly a little along with the air trying to make the most of their remaining time before they become part of the soil once again. Yet some create their own motion with the air, refusing to dance following the choreography of the wind, withdrawing themselves into complete harmony with the green leaves, resenting the
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