He got drunk that night. A rare event. Between the apartments complex, the gym and the bar, he usually had better things to do. Except that night. The bar was closed Monday to Wednesday, none of his twenty-four apartments needed fixing and he was fed up of training slobs, himself included. Just fucking tired of the greatest time of his life. Beautiful was always too fucking complicated. You should have closed your eyes, Cookie. Damnedest blue eyes. You should have done it like you meant it. Up for grabs then.
|Publisher:||Trica C. Line|
|File size:||254 KB|
|Age Range:||18 Years|
About the Author
About twenty-five years ago, I had to decide on a career path. My choices? Engineering or literature. I’ve been an engineer since then, thinking writing could keep until I retire. Obviously it couldn’t. Lately my days are (very) unevenly occupied by family life with my three lovely girls, regular day-job, writing, reading, going to the gym and as of late, traveling.