Rather than toss them away, I sometimes put them here to be used “as is.” Here’s a few scraps – a tweet and a poem – from the chapter called, “Watchers.”
Oh my, look at the time! He’ll be here soon – must get ready: strip, dim lights, part curtains. Check. Now wait for sounds by the window. (137 Characters)
Crunch of gravel underfoot, low guttural moans;
Staccato panting, rustling bush says I’m not alone.
Private show, just ‘tween us, sure to tantalize;
Sounds of pleasure fill my ears, and lust just for your eyes.