T.K. Malone

Do you want to know where I met the girl of my dreams?

Let me tell you. It was in a basement laundry room. We were there, we were cowering, scared to death, while the bombs rained down on us. I saw her, covered in a sheet of olive concrete dust. Our eyes met, just briefly to start with, but the next glance lengthened and lingered. She was kinda cute.

Thing was, we were going to die, no doubt about it. Once the block above us crumbled, there would be no way out.

That’s where I met the girl of my dreams.

She’s kinda cute.

A novella for your pleasure.