A bar ( Read more... )

Here's the outline in the bed where we would meet when it was too cold not to.

Where was she in the late hours that I chewed until my jaw ached ( Read more... )

The fires dance when they have enough fuel, and sit there within themselves, smoldering, when they run out, embers that wish they still sent sparks flying out towards everything. These sparks could set ablaze an entire world, if only there was enough to ignite it in this dampness ( Read more... )

A row of pink and red balloons.
A cigarette dangling from red-lipstick mouth.
A hand grabbing the cigarette, mouth exhaling.
A pair of nylon-thighs.
The doorway with Karl standing under it.
The girl popping a balloon with the cherry.
Another.
Another.
The line of balloons with one still full of air, the rest laying limp.