Norman walks down by the river to remember their time together. He feels the silky strands of her honey hair. Her milky cheeks blushed when he kissed her hair. Her icy blue eyes, cutting deep into his soul, quivered when he stroked her face. He shudders at the memory of her lips, which trembled like rose petals in the breeze. Sometimes he still hears her voice as the wind whistles through the trees. She is still there. She will always be with him.
He walks down by the river to remember her, and to make sure nobody's found the body.
He walks down by the river to remember her, and to make sure nobody's found the body.
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