
Here's an even better idea. Leave a comment and I'll bet you'll get a response.
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"He doesn't know where I am," she said as she took a Xanax. "I mean, I guess he could figure it out-all he has to do is look!"
She took a swallow from the bottled water. Her friend plumped up the pillows and rested back against them. She moved slowly, like a dance, arms and hands twisted above her head. She sang,
"This one goes out to the one I love
This one goes out to the one I've left behind
A simple prop to occupy my time
This one goes out to the one I love..."
She was 80's through and through-and she danced her way over to the cheap (but effective) drapes. Smiling coyly, she dry swallowed another small pill. "Keeps the sunlight out," She said over her shoulder as she yanked the left side closed. She sang off key-and loudly. She pulled the right side of the drapes over. She spun around and focused on the man in her bed. The man propped up by several hotel pillows, the man who had come to town just to see her. Her old friend. She flopped on the bed. Her head even with his waist. She was silently second guessing that second Xanax. She tugged at his belt and sang,
"Sex is natural - sex is fun
Sex is best when it's....one on one..."
"What about him?" He adjusted himself; he adjusted the pillows; he reached out and touched her face.
"What about him?" she countered. She rolled onto her back and pushed herself up-so that she lay curled on his left side. She twisted a piece of hair and softly spoke the Nirvana lyrics she loved,

I'm lucky to have met you
I don't care what you think
Unless it is about me..."
She tilted her head up and smiled at him. No need for him to feel any guilt. She rolled on top of him and closed her eyes. She let her imagination control her actions-her being. He thought he heard her singing,
"...the two of us together again
but it's just the same
a stupid game..."
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