he ordered himself another beer, smiling at the
pretty girls and shot glasses all in a row
outside the thunder roared and the sky split open
the old man looked at him with a knowing smile and said,
“Hope you brought your raincoats boy, its gonna be a wet night.”
With his hand twisted in her long curly locks he said between moans, “I thought… you were… a good girl.”
“I was,” she said slowly, gazing up from between his thighs with a gleam in her eyes. “That wasn’t working out so well for me so I’m trying something different.”
After violently tearing page after page of happy faces frozen in time from the album she lit the glossy plastic covered things on fire and unceremoniously dropped them in the bin.
“Photographs of other people’s memories
remind me of a life stolen from me.”
she explained to her befuddled neighbor.