Wednesday, September 14, 2011
"Are you scared?" he asked. Touching her hand gently, her fingertips cold as ice. It was a warm Wednesday night. The air humid and thick. She felt strangely chilly, slightly tired but with a little concerted effort, it did not show. "Jack Kerouac once said, nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so on the road." she murmured and shifted her weight to the other side. "There is nothing to be afraid of. Especially if you don't know what to be scared of." Looking up at him, the pools of her eyes, black with fear.
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