Warm summer nights in the backseats of cars—top left corner, under an oak tree—bodies kept close together. Arms wrap around one another, finding safety in a tight embrace that seals us together—our lips meet. Fingers running softly through her hair, gently caressing the fine strands—the kiss continues. Torsos pressed firmly against one another, arms tightening …
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Quoi?
Remy Chrysante is simply one of the six billion or so people who live on this planet. He writes at odd times, in odd places, and is most definitely not who you think he is. If you wish to know the true nature of Remy Chrysante, you must understand the sound of one hand clapping.