I already had one foot out the door as the man shoved some bills in my hand and tried to apologize. As the words tumbled out of his mouth, I could feel the bruises beginning to form on my wrists, the soreness spreading throughout my lower body. The man kept talking, saying something about wanting to see me again, but I got out and slammed the door ( Read more... )

In my mind he was still with me. Even though it had been years since we’d seen each other, I could remember every line, every nuance of his face. With or without the black lines of kohl, his eyes seemed to glow with some internal light, reminding me of a bottle of 18th century Absinthe. The description so perfect. Every time I put my lips to his, ( Read more... )