David loved her so much that his heart burst into shards of penetrating pain.
My heart pounding as fast as the drum rolls, and my nerves screaming higher than the pitch of the chants, I looked to David for reassurance.
I swallowed large gulps of air as torrential sobs tore through my throat.
His gentle tone, with a dash of daring, held a tinge of bitterness.
My mind clouded with a maelstrom of anguish. Reeling, dizzy, spinning, crazy.
The door shut. It rattled against the wind, chattering like the bones of a corpse.
His mouth bruised my tongue, and the stubble of his beard rasped my cheeks, plowing tart, tingling stings into the edge of my lips.
… that ripped rhythmic feral screams out of my throat, louder and faster than the insistent drumbeat
I wonder if my editor will let me keep: The wind and rain howled like a thousand dying women.