Page 44 (1/2)

A throbbing pulse echoes in ht and the dream that woke me The little bundle of nerves is still overly sensitive and alertips brush against it

I yankand rinsing it before turning the water off and stepping out of the shower

The wohtly less dazed, although no less marked

Running ertips over the damp skin of my ruined ar the outline of the dark red petals before skiers over the deep blue-black ink that surrounds them

The flowers look a little like pools of blood on a dark sidewalk I never thought of that before, but now that the thought has occurred to me, it’s all I can see

Goose bumps prickle over my wet skin, and I shake my head at my reflection

It’s done

The past can’t be undone, but the future can sure as fuck be reshaped

And this ends here

I don’t have to work until eight, so I spend the day locked up in er pantry and find so like shit lately My stomach has been a knot of tension for the past couple weeks, and I haven’t had much of an appetite

I’reat cook, but the food is palatable, and I force e-watch trashy TV shows in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt

At seven, I slip on a skirt and a pair of ankle boots, then throw on a shiny, low-cut top I don’t bother with my prosthesis

It’s a little cold for the amount of skin I have on display, but I throw a jacket on over it all and trot quickly down the stairs, then catch the bus a few blocks over I’ll warht It’ll m

ake things easier

Duke’s is already busy when I walk in, and I dumptrack of time for a while as I mix cocktails and pour beers