I should apologise, I really should. Two days since I’ve last seen or heard her.
Alright, that settles it: I’m going over now.
Red roses and sparkling wine? Oh man, she’ll melt in my arms. It’s worked before and it’ll work again.
Fool-proof.
Grab this shit outta the car, knock on the door-bell and she’s mine again; All mine.
Wait, what’s that? Moaning? She’s Jilling off; figures.
Creep over to her bedroom window; see what’s up.
Why am I hearing clapping? Why are there two shadows?
Why does one have the other bent over?
…
Why am I tearing up?
