I walked to the window to dilute my soundscape with the noise of the city.
There was something slow, cool and calm about the night air.
As I stubbed out my cigarette on the windowsill,
I wondered how I could approach this case like the city air.
There was something slow, cool and calm about the night air.
As I stubbed out my cigarette on the windowsill,
I wondered how I could approach this case like the city air.
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Memories of nights past flash through my mind like bullets from an M1911.
Her body, her scent, her skin...
Her silhouette was visible through the frosted glass of the door.
but her body told a different story.
The red lips, wet with the taste of sweet cherries.
The shoulder-length black hair that, despite the city, held the scent of lavender.
The snow-white, pale skin that I want to gently explore every inch of with my lip.
She didn't say anything.
She put her handbag down and looked me in the eye as she took one of my bottles and poured herself a glass.
She was always two steps ahead of me, but never far enough to overpower me. The shadows danced to her aura, but the truth would come out sooner or later.
She set it down, closed her eyes and added a soft moan to the crackling of the stove and the breeze from the city.
I know why she's here, and I know that my weak heart cannot resist her.
I closed the window and took a big swig from the bottle.
When I put the bottle down, she was at my feet,
unbuttoning her blouse.
When I put the bottle down, she was at my feet,
unbuttoning her blouse.
My rough hands reached for her. The left on her cheek, the right on her right breast.