A quote: “I would prefer even to fail with honor than win by cheating.” ~~ Sophocles
I’ll start with a story …
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He lies, deliciously spent, as she rolls off him.
“Is it done?” She asks.
The perfect nipples on the perfect breasts sway as she moves across the room. He swallows, wanting her again, what she does to him with her mouth, her hands … right now, forever.
“Yes,” he answers. He recalls the ashen face of his wife, his weeping children, the reddened face of his boss who is also his father-in-law when he said, “I’m leaving.”
She has dressed and reaches into the closet, a smile of secret satisfaction. She turns to him, suitcases in hand.
“Goodbye. I’m leaving.”
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Now, it’s your turn.
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featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock image, standard license
Apache 6 says: A pay back? Your lead in picture, this is a very good looking woman……
Steffen Crist says: .. alright, I’m here. Where’s he at?
I’m in to this gig for two C-notes; can’t afford to miss my contact.
I have my Browning 32, a Minox camera and two changes of clothing.
… where in the hell is he?
I can get to the hotel myself ….. if they don’t look too closely at my passport.
…. where is everyone? I’ve been standing here way too long ….
At least at the Vienna train station, a passerby would offer a lady a light …..
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Cameron says: She stared at me with a look of lazy contempt as I approached. I nodded at her and lit her cigarette.
“So you’re seeing me off? How gallant. And what is your answer?”
I shrugged. “Do your worst. I’ve already confessed everything and so far, I’m not facing any sanctions.”
The woman looked at me in horror. “You can’t be serious. When this gets out-”
“It already did and the world doesn’t care about another scandal.” I pointed behind her. “Get on that train and don’t come back. I see you here ever again, you won’t live to regret it.”
Wfjag says: She’d helped Prof. Harold Hill sell the band instruments. And, sell the band uniforms. And, as the piano teacher and so the nearest there was in River City to a professional musician, endorsed his “Think Method.” And, she’d ripped out a page from Schools of Indiana so no one would know that there was no Gary Conservatory Class of Ought-5, because the Conservatory didn’t open till two years later. And, the Madam Librarian had even helped him sneak onto the train so he wouldn’t be tarred and feathered. They were to meet up in Memphis. Iowa was far behind. But, now she stood alone on the platform. The Mississippi River’s humidity adding to oppressive Southern heat. A sadder but wiser girl was she.
My mother-in-law just arrived. She took the 4:45 out of Grand Central yesterday afternoon and got in this morning. She’s a total New Yorker: Park Avenue penthouse, Stork Club, three times divorced.
There she is at the train station—fresh as a daisy, thinking Georgia wasn’t supposed to look like this, and wondering why she sees hay wagons instead of taxis.
She’ll get used to the change of scenery. For the next two weeks, she’s going to be milking cows, feeding horses, ploughing fields, and occasionally chopping off a chicken’s head to make dinner.
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