whitney wright

Beach at Night
The shifting shore scraped her back as the tide pounded just feet away. His shorts bunched around his feet while her top slid aside. Salt and skin mixed in the darkness, their stifled cries lost by the wind. “Someone might,” she lied, but her hands begged for more.

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Altar Redemption
The vestry marked her soul as his cassock puddled around her shaking hands. “Forgive me, Father,” she gasped, though the lie died when he stretched her right there. The bell tower spun into their new religion, her shuddering finish his last rite.

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