"Just fucking do it Gary," and he plunged the whole knife in, to the hilt. My eyes widened. The bottle of South African white wine on the table, empty, casting a green shadow, maybe a flash of concentrated green light playing on a wall or unbeknownst on someone's chest.
Fault ilk with the robberies and they will grow up to be thieves. Some wonky chest has a bad heart inside it. Concentrated flash of excitement waxes, is colored with "love" or any of those affections, transparent as a thing phase-shifting.
Maybe it was raining! Yes and it was dark outside. Maybe it was after the first warm day of spring and it felt nice to put the sweater back on. Anyway, who would want to be outside when it was warm and night? I would.
