One of the stall doors swings open and a fortyish-year-old woman walks out tucking her shirt into her jeans. Her heavy lined eyes land on Seth. "This is the women's restroom." She points a finger to the door. "Can't you read?" "Can't you see that everyone in this club is about twenty years younger than you?" Seth retorts, turning to the mirror. With his pinkie, he messes with bangs. "Now if you'll excuse us, we're going to have some fun.
Jessica SorensenYou've always had a good grasp on what's right and wrong. You just have a hard time admitting that sometimes you choose the wrong.
Jessica SorensenOnce a blooming red rose, full of streaming life in its veins. Now a wilting black petal rupturing with death and pain.
Jessica SorensenI take my time because I love how it feels to carry her, the way she needs me, the way I need to protect her.
Jessica Sorensen