Sep 21, 2021
Angel had been a slave for fifty-two years. He’d seen many slaves come and go in the cells. Those who were claimed and others who managed to break free of their bonds. Angel kept himself tightly closed off simply for the fear of attaching to someone he would only lose. It was better to keep to himself than worry about others. That was the truth of the matter. Some though, Angel had found letting in and be something one might call a friend. Dusty was one of those people.
As the man approached him at the festival, he offered a smile that was a little warmer than most of the other he gave. “Dusty-- You are looking good tonight.” He hummed softly and ran a hand across the back of his neck. “You been keeping well?”
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