Lake Lewisia #723

The offerings piled up before the door of the inner sanctum: rare fruits, jars of amber honey, teas mixed from flower petals, anything of sweetness and tenderness that might appease her. When the supplicant heard her moving toward him, he threw himself on the ground, knowing favor was too much to hope for but desperate for mercy at least. She regarded her boyfriend's prone form, the piles of gifts outside her bedroom, the muttered prayers, sighed, and said, "All I actually wanted was an apology for bailing on date night at the last minute."

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LL#723