A lonely young women's life changes the very
night of Murray Franklin's murder, on live television and it is a change that her heart will never forget. When she spots a man passed out and bloody, in an alley, that same night and even when she sees...
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Arthur finally found some deluded bleach, spray cleaner in her cabinet under the sink and walked over to the mess he made. He put his hand over his mouth as if that would stop the wretched laughter even though he knew it would not. He fell to his knees and put folded his right arm over his mouth as his laughter got even worse and with shaking hands began to scrub the blood out of her hard wood floors.
He could not and would not let her abandon him.
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Iris walked down the street, ignoring all the madness and all the crazy crowds of painted faces and cheap clown masks and practically, ran into the little dive bar she often went to. She walked in and was relieved to see it wasn't very crowded yet and after sitting at the bar, trying to collect her racing mind, she decided to order a drink. She kept wanting to run back to her apartment and just let him devour her again, but instead she lit a cigarette and waited, impatiently, for her liquid courage to be placed in front of her hungry eyes.
The bartender was not the usual woman she knew and she was glad. She didn't want anyone to see the distress in her eyes and have to make something up in her head to make them go away and leave her he. She kept feeling his arms around her and the way he smelled like cigarettes with just a hint of lavender and how she could practically taste the nicotine in his mouth when his tongue was, sensually, tangling, with hers.
Just thinking about it made her feel a tightness between her legs and a deep longing in her heart. She almost could feel his beautiful hands on her thighs, spreading her legs. She was not here, not in this bar, but in a world of passion in her mind and all the alcohol in the world would never and could never quench such a thirst. The thirst she has for him would never leave her as long as her heart still pumped blood through her veins.
An ash dropped from her unattended cigarette, landing on her lap, snapping her back into the present moment. When she quickly looked down and swept the hot cigarette ash off of her dress, she saw that, without even knowing it, she had opened her legs. She immediately closed them and felt like a young nun who had just had impure thoughts in the house of God.
