The last time I met her she was wearing a

The last time I met her she was wearing a nun's habit. She had this habit of changing costumes and personas constantly. I wondered what she garb she would be in this time.
I knocked on her front door, and this time she greeted me wearing a Little Bo Peep costume, though the skirt was slightly shorter than I'd imagine for an old fashioned shepherdess.
"Ba ba black sheep, have you any Bull?" I asked. She said, "Yes sir, yes sir, three crates full," and handed me the latest shipment. But the Red Bull was "sugar"-free, so I grabbed
her by the horns and said "Corn syrup, high-fructose. NOW!" But something in the effort didn't agree with me. I stumbled forward, knocking a crate of sugar free Red Bull over and
then backed into a tower of skyy vodka, the red bull, liquor flooded and glass shards flooded across
the floor & the foamy glittering mixture lapping over his feet brought back memories of walking on the beach in the surf hand in hand. He reached up for her hand
... all he felt was the cold. Her limp hand had no more energy left, but was considerably heavier. "It's okay," he whispered, "it's okay."
She looked up at him with her languid eyes. "Whose bright idea was it to go Ice Fishing with our bare hands?" I tried to calm her, "Its an interesting challenge?" The heat of her
languid retort put the alembic of my desire on simmer, but as our fingers fell into the icy waters of the frozen lake, I did recognize that amorous heat might doom us both, and so
i left him naked and foolish in Arizona. He cried for weeks, the memory of my body slowly dimming. I laughed and hugged myself, please that someone else was as miserable as me.

Started: 2011-08-25 01:34:10
Finished: 2011-12-19 02:42:53

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