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The pavement was wet with the stench of methane andd her hair reeked of stale nicotine, but she persisted on in that dead-fast determination that she was known for. Her hair was piled atop her head in an 80s do and she had one request, 'the rock.' She was relentless with him, an old friend. He was a little pudgy, only because of the three cases of beer a day. Other than that, he was in fine shape. She tugged on his shirt, "Come on, baby. Can't I get one blast for free?" "Everything comes with a price," he said. In his hand was always a Budweiser in a coolie cup, but he was as good as a guy as they come. He just happened to have whatever you could ever want. She was steadfast in her ways and when you want it, nothing will stop you 'till you get it. A ten minute euphoria was what she was looking for, but it didn't look like the odds were in her hands. "I'm still looking," she reminded him. "Yeah, I know ... but it's not looking good." The sweat jumped on her shaking palms, "I can't wait." Her tapered jeans didn't give the best image of her plump legs, but she strutted them for all they were worth. She seemed uncomfortable with herself. Such insecurity could only be produced after years of abuse. Her character was shrouded by years of addiction and that body hit its prime in 1986, a long time ago. She went to college when she was 19 and majored in accounting, but look what good that did her. If she knew she was going to waste her education, she probably would have never picked up that stemmy. She always was a daddy's girl, but after she took her last never-paid loan, he just couldn't put up with it any longer. Out the house she went and into a half-run down trailer. It was "fully equipped." Equipped, that is, without electricity, heating, or plumbing. "It's a fixer-upper," she said, trying to console herself more than anything. "How could you throw away your life like this?" her father asked her. She shook her head, hair bouncing with a seconds delay, "I don't know what happened." Post a comment in response: |
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