Scars Of A Broken Bond by Calv Momose

Their dinner comprised a serving of noodles, much to Tyrone’s chagrin, as his typically handsome countenance contorted with discomfort.

How could something as simple as noodles taste so unpalatable?

In that moment, Tyrone even found himself contemplating that perhaps mutton was a more agreeable option.

Post-dinner, they embarked on a leisurely stroll through the bustling streets.

“Are you heading back?” Tyrone inquired.

Sabrina shook her head, her gaze resting upon him as she beamed, “I have a yearning to go to the bar.”

After a contemplative pause, he responded, “Indulging in nighttime drinks isn’t advisable.”

“If you don’t, then I will.”

or his own health,

silence,

come, I shall

confines of the club, carefully selecting a booth in which to take

a sip of her chosen wine, while a steaming glass of

beams emanating from the dance floor. On the stage, a spirited rock vocalist poured his heart

and roll failed to resonate with Sabrina’s sensibilities,

nudge Tyrone’s arm. Curious, Tyrone

us with a song,” she proposed with a glint of mischief

on his countenance. Recognizing her sincerity, he replied, “I’m afraid I can’t do that. It’s generally not permitted

run-of-the-mill guest? If memory serves me right, this establishment is under Tyson’s proprietorship,”

a response, taken aback by her astute

phone call, Tyson was engrossed

ID, Tyson silenced his poker companion and answered the call, “Hello, Tyrone, what’s

he mused aloud, “It’s rather peculiar. Why the