Wistwick 75 Miles

Alistera swallowed down the bile that scorched the back of her throat.

“Do you mind if I open the window?”

Geoff raised an eyebrow, but didn’t take his eyes off the road. Alistera took it as assent, flicking thumb and index finger in a complicated gesture. The glass resisted for a moment, as if sensing her weakness, then melted away. She gulped, hoping the fresh air would stave off the nausea. Continue reading