Status: very active. this one is my special baby.
Skinny Little Scammers
better lock it, in your pocket.
Arabella was a prowler. A stealer. A creature of the night. Always had been, always will be. Till death does she part. That made this easy. The clerk turned for a minute, one minute how could she take anything?!, and Arabella was home free. Three chocolate bars and a lighter found their way into her sticky palms. She smiled, have a good day sir, before slipping out of the door. Back into the wind and snow and rain. The weather was bipolar, just like Mitchell had been.
Funny how Arabella continued to forget they were gone. Everything was gone now. Lila – gone. Mitchell – gone. Dignity – never had any to begin with. Virginity – please, that was never special. Cigarettes – completely wiped out. Weight – still too much.
Why did she have three chocolate bars? She wouldn’t even eat one. She would have managed to guilt Lila into taking one. Mitchell, too, would have accepted the treat.As long as Arabella gave him a better treat later. She would have pretended to eat hers, but it would all end up back in the toilet. And then she would go to Mitchell. She would taste the sweets on his lips, his tongue. And it would have been like she ate one. But better. Nothing digested, nothing gained.
The lighter had more nefarious purposes. Not that it would fulfill its duty now. No. Arabella had no cigarettes. No weed. Nothing. She would save it for later. For when she got home. Better lock it, in your pocket.
She would lock herself in. No one would draw her out.
Funny how Arabella continued to forget they were gone. Everything was gone now. Lila – gone. Mitchell – gone. Dignity – never had any to begin with. Virginity – please, that was never special. Cigarettes – completely wiped out. Weight – still too much.
Why did she have three chocolate bars? She wouldn’t even eat one. She would have managed to guilt Lila into taking one. Mitchell, too, would have accepted the treat.As long as Arabella gave him a better treat later. She would have pretended to eat hers, but it would all end up back in the toilet. And then she would go to Mitchell. She would taste the sweets on his lips, his tongue. And it would have been like she ate one. But better. Nothing digested, nothing gained.
The lighter had more nefarious purposes. Not that it would fulfill its duty now. No. Arabella had no cigarettes. No weed. Nothing. She would save it for later. For when she got home. Better lock it, in your pocket.
She would lock herself in. No one would draw her out.