Numbness had set in hours ago. The pain had moved from tingling to pulsing to nearly unbearable, but she had breathed through it. This was penance. She sat on her knees on the living room floor, palms resting on her thighs, head lowered, listening to the symphony of birds from the open window. This was…
Hot wind whispered softly through the cherry trees–the late summer evening telling heady, perfume-laden secrets everyone already knew, like rumors that had been around the block enough times to become folk tales. It made the inhabitants of the apartment lazy and slow, sweat trickling into hidden crevices, skin sticking to skin. Fortune spread her legs…
Here is the full text of my Smut Marathon round #6 entry. I had to cut a lot of it to get to the required 650 words (I have posted that version at the bottom). The Fortune Cookie (title in Smut Marathon was “Your Fortune Awaits”) From outside, the restaurant looked inauspicious: brick, painted glossy…
He wrote the words on my breasts yesterday, and I haven’t been able to remove them since. Not because they wouldn’t wash away…but because I’ve lost him and I don’t have the strength to remove all that is left of him. Could drunk whore and fuck-up be the last things he gave me that are…
The call came from across the house, muffled and distant, “Hey, babe…can you gimme a hand?!!” I don’t like being interrupted. He knows that. It’s why he does it. I got up from my writing and padded abrasively across the hardwood floor toward the the location from which I assumed his voice was coming. The…
