Lying in a heap on the shower floor, she watches the trickle of water etch a path down her forearm before pooling momentarily in her elbow.  She ponders the veins below the surface and wonders if her blood would take the same course.  Suicidal isn't the right word to describe her current state of mind.  For it's not her death she seeks but rather the end of her current existence -- the repetitive patterns, the familiar outcome, the cruelty that causes honesty to be treated as a crutch, passion… Continue

"I'm already horizontal" was all she needed to text and he was at her doorstep.  For pick up lines, it's not the most creative but certainly got the job done.  She knew this -- getting men into her bed was easy -- finding one she wanted to keep there, that was the difficult part.  Don't get me wrong, she never said she had trouble climaxing.  But after the 4th or 5th time, she wondered to herself how long she would need to cordially attempt to get his whiskey dick off before she could politely… Continue

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