Ficly

Juxtaposition

The evening air was chill and damp as it danced on my skin. We strolled, with a gait that belied no purpose, through the streets. Twisting our way through the city, turning my senses deliciously inside out so I had absolutely no sense of direction. No inkling of our purpose. The suspense was coursing through me, thumping in my ears, yet…I was unafraid.
His paw like hand enveloped mine. Gentle. Insistent. So very rough. I cradled my tiny little hand in his, while, as an afterthought, my skin began to chafe.
The door we came to was large and dark. Scraped with iron and rust. Bleeding bits of multi-colored paint from years gone by. The understated command was simple. “Here.”
My skin crackling with excitement, I followed him through.

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