For your reading pleasure, Tempest presents yet another exquisite example of romantic narrative…

Of the Tender Heart
by Veronica Morris, LL.D

   No; Chrysalis, even lovelier — if possible — in her grief, was not pleased. Not at all! Neither the aroma of fresh mulberry pies nor the quiet chapel where they had first met impressed her, and it was all because he wasn’t there. Intellectually, she realized that Mark, the inexplicable sensitive genius who had known her in ways even she did not suspect, had a full life in which he was struggling for life in the intensive care ward, and he could not be expected to hold any consideration for the pleasure of one intensely equine girl. Intellectually, she knew this. And yet…
   Truly, it had been a most amoral, unconquered day when her horoscope had brought him to her attention.
   Abruptly, a peal of mighty bells shattered her composure into a million instinctive pieces! She felt her heart suddenly beat with a new, wild rhythm. Surely it could not be — but it was! At the door, the inchoate and masculine face she had come to know so well! “All I have is yours,” he stated while the band began to play. “I need you, baby doll!”
   It was then that as it dawned on her that her days of loneliness were over, she knew that life without him was unthinkable, if not antediluvian. Wthout him, could she ever have woke up. Incredibly enough, it had all been a dream?

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