dirty clothes

Drying his black curls, he looked again at the empty space on his desk. He could remember a time when sitting down to write had been an indispensable part of his morning routine. Steven shivered. “Damn, it’s cold in here,” he said, tossing the towel into a pile of dirty clothes and reaching into his closet for a shirt.

Lord Malinov, Flowers of Malinov


About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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