I took out my tongue ring after 10 years. And I am having feels.
The Wanderer bursts its chains from the sheer pressure of being held captive and explodes beneath the surface in hot waves of longing that crash over my head again and again, refusing to let me gasp a breath for fear that I’ll shove it back into its box – it has to escape.
“No, really! A katana-wielding bugbear. Bestseller!”