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We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory will swell when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.

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Stories by Wolfy

These Arms Of Mine by Wolfy

Rated: F18 • 0 Reviews

“You should not be here. You must leave at once” a silky voice spoke gently.

Dying Game by Wolfy

Rated: F18 • 0 Reviews

I never was someone who could sing well, but with the lifeless infant in my arms, it was all I could think of to do.

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