Sluts in Love

"Fucking whore," I mutter. There's no one in the world who pisses me off as much as her. I pick up my mug of coffee but drop it. Shards of glass shoot out in every direction. Already, the bitter smell fills up my kitchen. Shitler sticks his nose up my crotch.

"Go away," I snarl and push him away. I don't know who I'm angrier at; myself or that whore. Just as I think that I see a figure out of the corner of my eye.

"What the fuck do you want know?" I ask her.

A blue and green eye gaze upon my mess. "I think you dropped something."

"Fuck you."

"I wondered, perhaps incorrectly, if you'd be proud. You seem to have taken what a lot of people think I flash around. Well done."

"Why are you still here? Do you want me to pay you or something? What more could you possibly want from me?"

She sits on my counter and grabs one of the bottles of soda I've left out. "You seem angry," she says after taking a sip. No shit.

"I don't understand how someone could possibly be so dumb."

"Oh, Paris," she sighs. She takes a lighter from the counter and flicks it under her wrist. I hope her stupid hippie bracelet catches on fire. "Give me some credit. I'm not exactly dumb."

"You're just on a lot of drugs, then?"

She makes a noise that I can only describe as a happy yelp. Shitler looks at her weirdly. It's almost enough to make me almost laugh. "You're getting closer, doll face!" She jumps off the counter and kisses my cheek. I grimace. "Call me when you figure it out, darling." I hear her slam the front door shut but the smell of sunflowers linger in the hallway.

What the actual fuck.