Snippet #1942597

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In the nearby park, Andre Fallow sat beneath the shade of a gentle willow tree. His back fit perfectly into the curves of the tree, partly because it wasn't the first time he had sought comfort in the weeping willow. Partly because he was lanky and tall enough to fit in it. The breeze kissed his scars, a memory he chose not to remember. The action was futile, however, as he turned to watch the children on the swingsets and the slides, a painful reminder of Arabell.

Arabell.

He closed his eyes and let his bangs fall over face, letting out a small sigh. He must not think of that.