Indianki
She tossed and turned, finally getting up way too early for work. She hadn’t slept more than an hour and that had been full of dreams, dreams where she had run from a monster that haunted her with a gleaming dagger. Dreams about running from him and into Nick’s arms. He had held her, caressed her until she was naked and needful, her body writhing against his as she begged him to take her. Then he had simply turned her around and she was in front of a room full of uniformed cops, all men. All laughing at the picture she made and calling her names like slut and whore. She woke feeling restless, ashamed, cranky and mean tempered. Her toast had burned, her instant coffee too strong. She hadn’t been satisfied with any of her clothing choices, being overly critical because of what was being gossiped about her. Her car hadn’t wanted to start this morning and she had broken a nail trying to get the hood latch undone. When it had finally started, she realized that she had forgotten to get gas. Today was a rare occasion, since I needed something before I left. All that was in the fridge was a bowl of salad. It had a bunch of colors and stuff, but I didn’t care, it was a kind of food. Maybe he would have sprinkled bacon bits on it like he usually did to coax me into eating it. I hoped so. I made my way to my room, the salad half gone in big mouthfuls. I wondered to myself what this girl planned on doing with me, what were we going to do? Were we going anywhere? Did she want to come to my shared apartment? Just what was going to happen? I shrugged my questions out of my mind, taking the last bite of salad, delighted to know there indeed had been bacon bits. Sometimes you have to take pleasure in the very small things. I decided to dress casual in dark jeans, fitted black t-shirt and black tennis shoes. I ran my hands through my hair again, worried for a split second that she wouldn’t like me. I put the doubts from my mind as I went to rinse my fork and bowl. The computer.
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