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Rosy cheeks, innocent bright red lips, a faint thin curve and the bottom of an ass teasing its way out of the bottom of a long tight night shirt that would surely make anyone, who didn’t know her true age, feel guilty.
“Why do you have to leave?”, her bright tear filled eyes leaving streaks of black mascara on my collared shirt.
Faint memories of a one night stand in Los Angeles being erased by a combination of jet lag and travel-size bottles of Jack Daniels.
I awoke in the morning, a glaring Nevada sunrise burning away much needed REM thanks in full part to my poor decisions from the night before. Blurs from the hotel lobby, angry demands for a pool facing room, fists were waved.
“God’s judgement will come from the east”, mouthing words in silence as I sat on the edge of the bed, images dancing in my waking memories of drunken slurs at the lobby counter.
It was easily 2 in the morning when I rolled out of the taxi from the airport onto the concrete at the front of the hotel. “Certainly no one had seen me… had they?” A sure thought being eroded by doubt as I held a glass of ice to my hangover striped forehead.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirrored elevator, an untucked white dress shirt marked with black mascara stains across the shoulders, an unshaven face that hung with tired eyes and a frown that would soon be hidden behind gulps of bloody mary’s at the poolside bar.