I traded minutes for kisses, hours for the slide of your skin against mine. I drew out every second, unwound them one by one: my fingers, your hair.
In that perfect moment when time no longer mattered, the lark began to sing.
-
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Christine Hanolsy 
“unwound” love that word in this. It’s so tangled with all those n’s and stuck-together vowels.
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Ahh! Christine, there is so much here. I love it! Add in the title too, it adds so much to the story. Well done (as always)!!
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Very sensual.
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Sigh… of course you did. Sigh. . .
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A microstory aubade. 🙂 I love that image of unwinding seconds.
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I liked how time stopped, until it didn’t. Maybe it was the nightingale?
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beautiful. i just want to stay in this moment of bliss.
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Don’t we all… 😉
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Love the linking of unwinding of seconds and fingers through hair
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This was so sensual and touching. Beautiful story!
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Love this!
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🙂 Thank you!
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