I was not having a good day. It was well after midnight when Joyce came home. I heard her walking around for a few minutes then she took a shower. ...fter the water stopped, she went to her room, I assumed to bed. It was maybe ten minutes later when she opened my door a crack “You still up?”I paused the game “Yeah, it’s been a fucked up night, I can’t sleep, come in if you want.” Joyce came in, closed the door with a soft click then sat on the end of my bed, next to me “How is your ankle?”. The way she would let her shoe gently touch his calf under the table, brushing his hand with hers when reaching for her glass, her eyes lingering on his mouth when he spoke and then slowly raising them to meet his eyes, letting him see the lust within. They set out to write a story with the same characters, and the same premise, but seeing where a male and a female writer would independently take them. This story is Honey123’s. Be sure to look for PierceStreet’s story with the same title. She. More

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