LesbianConfession

I’ve guarded this in my Private Locker for too long. That rustic auberge in the Jura, between Arbois and Morbier. Woods everywhere, cows grazing outside. We just escaped Bruges, bodies still buzzing from kills and chases. Juliette, the judge with shifting eyes, almost violet up close. Me, Cassandre, the romantic delinquent. The poularde dinner warmed…