Santa Monica

He gets up to smoke a cigarette after he fucks you. You remain prone, your jeans strangling your calves in a reminder you need to get to the gym. Calmly, you adjust your bra and pull your shirt over your stomach. You watch him open a window and light up. It’s still early. He coughs and does not look at you, but places a long, cool finger on the windowpane before scratching his neck. Is this your cue to get the heck out of Dodge? You are unsure how to proceed. He turns toward you.

Want to read the rest?
Please login.
New to Narrative? sign up.
It's easy and free.