Nelena
I felt ill this morning.
It wasn't the kind of ill that announces a swarm of heavy fluttering in your belly – like ladybug wings. It wasn't even the kind of ugly ill that later progresses into beautiful excitement – like the metamorphoses of a caterpillar into a butterfly.
This was the kind of ill that accompanies the eerie silence before a dangerous storm – a foreboding of sorts.
This was the feeling that one gets deep in the pit of your belly when something terribly awful is about to take place – something to which you hold no hope of forcing pause. That feeling one gets when they're standing on the curb, watching a vehicle swerve out of control toward a pedestrian. You see it happening, like time has slowed, but you can't find your voice and your body is frozen.
I ignored this feeling as I peeled myself from my bed. Now, as I stood before my body length mirror, staring at my image draped in white, that feeling of despairing ill returned tenfold.
Crippling me.
YOU ARE READING
Mr. Wright Now
RomanceHe was supposed to be the rebound… After a pathetic reenactment of The Runaway Bride, the last thing Nelena Price needed was a man to swoop in and steal her heart. Good liquor, laughter, and great no-strings sex were the only options she wanted on...
