“Do we have access to the library?” was the first question the woman I’d fallen in love with had asked, and she forced a smile that, as usual, I saw through.

What was it my heart wanted? Neither it nor I knew. I wager it would’ve been something clichéd like walking through the garden into the imprisoning research centre library, and the warm touch of her lips in between those echoing bells.

BEFORE CHURCH BELLS RING BY BRUCE CROWN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 76