This one had trouble written all over her. Nicely built,
well proportioned; but by anybody’s standards easy – way easy. She’d let anyone
that wanted leave their mark on her… and she’d liked it, loved it, begged for
it. She wore their marks with pride like battle scars. No, like tattoos; the
names of her passing lovers etched all over her lovely surface - Turtle, Rota, Lowkee.
I didn’t mind, I liked it that way - and anyway it was my
turn now.
“Want my name too?” I asked.
“Anything you want.” She replied. “What’s your name?”
“Grey. Now shut up and let me get on with it.”
I reached into my pocket and took out the small tool I
always carried with me. My turn - time to make my mark.
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ReplyDeleteThanks for saving my bacon Cindi. Uncommented on posts are harbingers of crows and evil. ♥
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