“What do you love?” I asked her. She was African-American, pretty, a bit thick in the right places, with a beautiful sundress and immaculate hair. She was tall, and barefoot, with an angry face and a bag over her shoulder. She was having a bad day, I could tell by her body language, and she… Continue reading Volacha
Tag: suicide
The Hanged Man
I was out again. This time, it was many things. A new obsession had come to me, a girl who seemed higher and brighter than possible. She was beautiful and powerful, tragic and complicated, and I was ill prepared for her level of manipulation and intrigue. She was teaching me things I never imagined I… Continue reading The Hanged Man