(no subject)
As far as island fuckups go, this one's actually not so bad. By the time I tumble out of bed, sweat soaked and well fucked, the sun's high in the sky, crystal clear and beautiful as always, and I watch Mike head off with the girls in tow. This beautiful woman who should've been a stranger, but instead, is so familiar. Deep down in my gut. And me? I feel warm all over, loose-limbed and relaxed in this whole new way, and Tom hasn't stopped blushing all morning.
In the compound, I slip on a long, gauzy dress, simply 'cause I like the feel of it on my skin. Thin, leather flip flops and my hair tumbling over my shoulders, I move lazily along the boardwalk, over-sized sunglasses perched on my nose and a cigarette between my lips. Keepin' an eye out for little Wednesday Addams, half expectin' her to come tearing outta the bushes after me with a knife, wantin' revenge for me having her stolen face... and flashing Peter Pan her tits.
What can I say, it was a busy fuckin' morning.
There's the kind of buzzing excitement that always comes along with these days, people laughing and crying and running around like they can't quite figure out what to do, but when I slip into the Winchester, it's just about empty, and I lean over the bar for two beers, stretching up on my tiptoes on my tiny fuckin' legs.
Standing outside in the sun now, I crack the first one open, adjusting one shoulder strap and taking the first cold swig as I make my way down toward the beach.
Yeah, might not be a bad day at all.
[[This is timed to tomorrow, around noon, but I'm an impatient bitch and couldn't wait. Open to all. Neil is tiny little Christina Ricci, and he's got beer he's willing to share. I'll accept tags all week.]]
In the compound, I slip on a long, gauzy dress, simply 'cause I like the feel of it on my skin. Thin, leather flip flops and my hair tumbling over my shoulders, I move lazily along the boardwalk, over-sized sunglasses perched on my nose and a cigarette between my lips. Keepin' an eye out for little Wednesday Addams, half expectin' her to come tearing outta the bushes after me with a knife, wantin' revenge for me having her stolen face... and flashing Peter Pan her tits.
What can I say, it was a busy fuckin' morning.
There's the kind of buzzing excitement that always comes along with these days, people laughing and crying and running around like they can't quite figure out what to do, but when I slip into the Winchester, it's just about empty, and I lean over the bar for two beers, stretching up on my tiptoes on my tiny fuckin' legs.
Standing outside in the sun now, I crack the first one open, adjusting one shoulder strap and taking the first cold swig as I make my way down toward the beach.
Yeah, might not be a bad day at all.
[[This is timed to tomorrow, around noon, but I'm an impatient bitch and couldn't wait. Open to all. Neil is tiny little Christina Ricci, and he's got beer he's willing to share. I'll accept tags all week.]]