One of my early Uni short stories. Published in some sort of Local Literary Journal. Rough and Wild. Enjoy.

I said she was gone, and by all accounts of loving me she is, but she was also the only person that I knew of in this town that had seen me naked.  Damn if that makes any sense, but like every woman I’ve ever known she gets her way, so she must have the right way about something.  She says that a person, while not necessarily incapable of the act itself as evident in her leaving of me, is incapable of murdering someone that has seen their most secret of selves, as reflected in their flabby ass.  She says it is a mind game, that a man can’t kill a woman who could possibly be judging what he looks like underneath his clothes.  That he would choke on his perceived nakedness and she could gain the upper hand with the proper application of any number of quality household pain inducing objects. Continue reading “Velvet Marmalade” →