Girls didn't usually make him sweat. He liked to think he was the one who made them sweat. But this date he just kept trying to wipe his hands dry as he listened to Colombia rage on about free range chicken and the fight against corporate fast food. He focused on the chalky gravel path leading through the dripping green trees and out of site. The breeze picked up the fresh fishy scent of Lake Michigan and smashed it into the wet trees. The boughs drooped down and thorny branches shot out across the path. He moved a prickly branch aside , but she didn’t even notice. She kept talking about the chickens. "People don't even care that chickens don't even get to have beaks anymore, and they are kept in pens so long their feet start to grow around the wire, like the worst ingrown toenail you could ever imagine..." Kyle listened to her, nodding in agreement and grimacing in disgust at the appropiate times He thought about how he could of left her to the mercy of the thorn branches. He had saved her perfect white creamy skin from mutilation and she didn’t even notice. He thought of her, covered in tiny red lines of blood. He didn’t think she’d be as beautiful. He probably wouldn’t be attracted to her either. Sure she would still have her soft black hair that she spiked up like a _____, but her slender white body would be tainted. He imagined her entire body covered with lines of red, oh god, he hated blood... There was a crashing of branches and Colombia lunged for his arm as she tripped over a hidden root. He quickly glanced down at her……. Whew, no blood, he sighed to himself and took advantage of the moment, wiped his hand on his jeans and put it in her blood free one. He felt good in her hand. He suddenly felt guilty about dissing Colombia's hypothetically bloodied body. Besides, the scatches would heal eventually, he thought, and they could resume dating. Kyle was about 5’6”, 170 lbs, his neck was the same diameter as his thighs. Colombia was almost 5'11, maybe 130 lbs. She had the waif-like look of a supermodel crossed with a flighty fairy. She dyed her short pixie hair a blue-black color from a box, Feria Starry Night, and then let it stick up all over. It clashed with her pale white skin almost as much as Kyle’s skin did.Their interests seem to clash just as much, Colombia was into animal rights and PETA and planned to vote for Ralph Nader in the next election. Kyle, however, loved prime rib as much as the next guy, and planned to go to the NFL after a brief NCAA career. They had met in their Environmental Studies class. Kyle had
He focused on the chalky gravel path leading through the dripping green trees and out of site. The breeze picked up the fresh fishy scent of Lake Michigan and smashed it into the wet trees. The boughs drooped down and thorny branches shot out across the path. He moved a prickly branch aside , but she didn’t even notice.
She kept talking about the chickens.
"People don't even care that chickens don't even get to have beaks anymore, and they are kept in pens so long their feet start to grow around the wire, like the worst ingrown toenail you could ever imagine..."
Kyle listened to her, nodding in agreement and grimacing in disgust at the appropiate times He thought about how he could of left her to the mercy of the thorn branches. He had saved her perfect white creamy skin from mutilation and she didn’t even notice. He thought of her, covered in tiny red lines of blood. He didn’t think she’d be as beautiful. He probably wouldn’t be attracted to her either. Sure she would still have her soft black hair that she spiked up like a _____, but her slender white body would be tainted. He imagined her entire body covered with lines of red, oh god, he hated blood...
There was a crashing of branches and Colombia lunged for his arm as she tripped over a hidden root. He quickly glanced down at her……. Whew, no blood, he sighed to himself and took advantage of the moment, wiped his hand on his jeans and put it in her blood free one.
He felt good in her hand. He suddenly felt guilty about dissing Colombia's hypothetically bloodied body. Besides, the scatches would heal eventually, he thought, and they could resume dating.
Kyle was about 5’6”, 170 lbs, his neck was the same diameter as his thighs. Colombia was almost 5'11, maybe 130 lbs. She had the waif-like look of a supermodel crossed with a flighty fairy. She dyed her short pixie hair a blue-black color from a box, Feria Starry Night, and then let it stick up all over. It clashed with her pale white skin almost as much as Kyle’s skin did.Their interests seem to clash just as much, Colombia was into animal rights and PETA and planned to vote for Ralph Nader in the next election. Kyle, however, loved prime rib as much as the next guy, and planned to go to the NFL after a brief NCAA career.
They had met in their Environmental Studies class. Kyle had
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