I don’t remember most of last night. But then, I wouldn’t, would I?
But then, I wouldn’t, would I?It’s still dark out, just before dawn, when I wake, n***d, with full-on cottonmouth and a headache that feels like it might do me in. You’re wrapped up in a sheet, peaceful, and I let you sleep even though I consider killing you now and getting it over with.
Even though my memory is hazy, I know that whatever happened won’t have been good, and taking you out now will save us some time arguing later. It’s astonishing—just think, I could save us years of back and forth with one swift movement. It takes me a moment to reconsider, and it’s helpful that I can just barely make out your right tit peeking out, but eventually I decide where’s the fun in that? So, I take a cold shower instead, and the
