I had known this shadowy woman for the whole time it took me to suck down half a rum and coke, spoke four sentences with her, half of which were about...fingering ourselves, and now I was about to piss with her. Normally, this would make no sense, but in my new world I figured, go with the flow. I pointed to her tank top. “What are you painting, anyway?” I asked forcefully, competing with the noise of the bar, as we squeezed to the left through a party of college k**s. She didn’t answer but took. Misty ran the machine, satisfied that Cynthia was finally still. Step by step, she confirmed over the next 45 minutes that the scanner was operating perfectly and that the previous results were accurate. While neither was an expert, both could see something seriously wrong with Cynthia’s brain. An entire section, small but there, had died off. It seemed to be nothing but dead tissue. ‘What area of the brain is that?’ the would be vet asked. ‘I don’t know. It seems to be part of the frontal. Be up." I'll set an alarm." The conversation ended. The morning arrived and my insomnia had kicked in so I'd been up since 3am, on the plus side I got the house cleaned even dusted, changed my bedding, got a bath, teeth brushed and dressed smartly in a shirt and pants. Karen knocked on my door just after half 9, I unlocked the door and handed her the permit, then looked again at what she was wearing, she had a pair of oxblood doc Martin boots on with what I assumed was black tights, a calf. “I assure you that there is nothing that could ruin such a beautiful relationship.”She pulls her hand free of his and turns away from him. After a brief moment of silence she says, “I know you are interested in me. You are the city’s most eligible bachelor and all. It would be foolish of me—of any woman—to turn you down, but...”Chris’ hands softly grip both of her arms, turning her around to face him once again. “I wouldn’t ask any of that from you,” he says just as softly as his hands feel on.
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