Sunday, December 5, 2010

I meet her eyes from across the room. The bartender goes back to work after giving Doofus one smouldering look.

I hold the tattooed lady's eyes with mine; not hypnosis, just the kind of look that passes between two people sometimes. In four long strides, I stand before her, smiling. No fangs; not yet, anyway.

"Dance with me."

No comments:

Post a Comment

Comments... we get comments....