Melting Part I- A short story
I told her I'd like another. Something seemed to freeze her, though I warmed her right back when I presented him. There, at the far end of the diner where I'd told him to wait, a dim yellow soaked him in the early dark, like a possession of unrivalled expense. I had found him a few days before, in a bathroom. He was scrubbing blood from the basin when I came behind and put my hand on his large back. I saw him side by side with shyness, there in the mirror. His hair blonde, his hands smooth and cold. I left at once when I was done, to find her lying topless in the backseat. We drove on, but he stayed with me. At the next motel I called the diner with its bathroom of bloody basins and a cook picked up. I asked for the pretty boy and when he came his voice dragged me under the sheets. I called him the next day, when her mouth was on my neck. I thought of him when she touched me and I drew him when she asked me to do her. I would see him in the tears of bank tellers and hear his cries in sirens. I called a third time and told him to come to a diner, a few towns over. The bus picked him up and I was there on time. When I sat at his table he smiled to me. He smiled to her. I took his hand and led him out. We were together on the backseat. I told her to drive. He was so soft, so pretty. His soul melted through my skin. He was there with me in bed at the next motel. She slept on the floor. The night after she slept next door. Then she slept in the car.