Featured: and you can read me anything
Fan: Written Works
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He was so gangly and so...white. A chicken, a cackling rooster more often than not.
And yet his skin smelt of the desert sun, his locks of tobacco and asphalt. Long miles of dusty roads haunted every glance.
How had he remained free? Soaring like a hawk, riding the thermals, trusting instinct and fate in a way that appeared almost masterful.
Yearning to merge with the glorious creature, to view the world from such dizzying heights, Amal ignored the voices demanding he tie the jesses and hang on tight.
But weren't souls meant to be fettered?
Amal was the color of coffee with lots of cream and too much sugar. Candy coffee, like they sold in those over-priced, name brand joints. But considering that's how TJ liked it, Amal's skin required tasting, tempting him to drink his fill, lapping up every drop of the sweet reward.
Something more kept him lingering at the counter, plaguing the waitress for another refill. The guy had been loved. Clear enough. Roots, family...the