i can do bad all by myself

by Rachel Lynch in


I recalled the hotel with the seductive name of the Enchanted Hunters. Carnal deliberation. She was absentminded and shameless in matters of legshow. There was something charming about her vulgarity, about her obsession with wildlife. Her eyes are always dirty river blue, their black lashes so wet and matted. I always wanted to keep her. Something about her was irreplaceable, it's like she filled space differently than others. She laid around the place in these snug-fitting bodices. She whirled to the neutral milk hotel. Bodysuits in all shades, every shade. Fox fur and brown bedsheets. Dark plum, frosted aqua and deep auburn. Burt sienna and pale french kisses. She was so small, but she had so much presence. The room was filled, I promise.