Bugger this for a lark, as he might have said. I was not going to let the two of them cast me as a voyeur.
“And there was only one thing Leah could be doing back there, and I wanted to catch her at it. Embarrass her. Totally.”
My palms were sweaty, and I was actually trembling a little when I hung up the phone. But hey. It’s about hand, as that absurd George Costanza would say.
fourth chapter :: leah’s journal
I was so—sad, so full of this blue feeling, this color that pressed against everything in me and felt like it was going to squeeze tears out of my eyes but it’s also squeezing something else, and I suddenly wanted somebody to touch me, to kiss me, to make me come, make me forget about all of this just for a moment, so I did it myself.
fifth chapter :: getting ready
A woman’s feet, a woman’s legs stride into my view, there, on the carpet. Stockingless, smooth, fastened into sandals with spindly heels and thin black straps. Toes freshly painted. Green, in case you were curious.
“Get the fuck out of here!” the enormous man next to me yelled. “Fuckin’ Beaver Bear! Fuckin’ troll! Get! You know the Hyatt Bridge?” That last to me.
commentariat
Nicholas Urfé (An exaltation of larks)
Jenny/Selena (The sidewalks of Old New York)
bahoi d (“...inexplicably fancy coverage”)
Jenny/Selena (An exaltation of larks)
fondlykelvin (A violent yet flammable world)
Fondly Abtruse (Now, while no one’s looking)
Vinnie Tesla (Now, while no one’s looking)
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