When the night came all thatt could be heard were the insistent voices of the grasshoppers - they were trying to find their place in my mind, trying to replace the cool, rough, but pleasant touch to my skin. Their voices were thundering like the blood in my veins - never allowing me to close my eyes, making me wish that this moment would last all night long, that the goosebumps created by this touch would never disappear, that there would always be more. I didn't want it to end, but...

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Oh, I let out one last moan.

It was disappearing like last of charcoal in a bonfire that was about to go out. But, no matter the shortness of this moment, I will remember it every time I hear the voices of grasshoppers.