As they head into another witching hour a familiar curiousity slowly shifts it's way out of his mind and crawls under her skin. Peeling it back piece by piece - parts detach and reform, undo and mend, tear then fuse. "The mind is extraordinary" he says, "But I just don't know where to begin with you."
As the dusk rises, she falls out of decency's favour once again. "Get fucked dickhead, I've had enough." The world shrivels up and reduces to dust for a morning.
He knows in the back of her head she'll be back. Fucking glutton.
0 comments:
Post a Comment