On her left side, there was a pink and fuzzy patch. Fearful enough to want to run, I tried to distract her. I pointed at the pink patch and said, “Y...u might want to take care of that when you get home. I’d hate to see that dress ruined.”Her brow furrowed and she looked down at her side. “There’s nothing...” She stopped and looked up again. Just as quick as I noticed it, her air of authority was gone. “How did you see that?” she asked.I blinked at her and felt anger replacing my fear. “You have. Little slut should go here, if not, I’ll find her.I drive around town, hoping against hope to find the whore. I don’t need to, gonna see her tomorrow, but it would be nice. And I don’t wanna hang out where I’m gonna be tomorrow all day. No luck. But I do find a hobo. I give him a hundred dollar bill, one of many I found stashed in a sill safe box at the old bitch’s house. He thinks I’m a saint. Maybe I am.Night falls, I howl at the moon. I’m not gonna kid myself, I’m more animal than saint. But. More

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