When loss, grief, confusion drives her out of her everyday life, away from the familiar, the suburbs, the expected, what else is to be done, except to buy a train ticket to anywhere and hide out in a Motel 6.
Somewhere off some highway she drinks shots of tequila, remembers the sorrow and prays for the guidance of the angels. Careful of what she wishes for, hoping she gets it.
Written by Rebecca Milton
Published by AmorBooks
“The liquid ribbon of red that you pull in before you push the plunger and send it, blood, heroine, hope, hate, into the vein, into the body, crashing willy-nilly, two of my most favorite penguins, into the brain. Then come numb, then come peace, then come … nothing. Hard to describe, truly fruity, but there it is, good sir, there it is. Have you stood on the black brink and looked down, down to nothing and thought this is it, this is good, this is what I have been waiting all damn day for? This is better than sex, better than being in the back seat with him, with one hand on my tits and his other hand sneaking up my thigh, trying to slip under my skirt and fighting, fighting, but not too hard, not too much, don’t want to discourage him completely. You know that feeling? I do, and it’s good, wet between the legs, sighing breath that begs, it’s good. And yet, the red ribbon, the…
