Grace

Her name is Grace soft and gentle she flows, she is something I can’t catch, like mist she is unable to be held. This is something I will have to live with.

I wake up, and I’m somewhere else, the light is soft and warm. The bed moves, I'm still half asleep, I slowly role round only to meet the eyes of some nameless girl I vaguely remember from the evening before. Damn… why couldn’t she leave during the night like all the others? Who the hell dose she think she is. Her breath smells like stale wine, which is not something I want first thing in the morning. I try not to think what she is having to put up with if it’s anything like what I’m tasting she is braver than me… why the hell is she smiling…

She starts to move and without uttering a word she is off the bed, her eyes are sill holding me as she slips over the sheets and clothes abandoned on the floor from the evening past. There is some thing different about her I didn’t see it last night and even with make-up smeared from tears and sweet she is the prettiest girl I can remember seeing in a long time. She makes it to the bathroom closing the door but meeting my gaze till the last. Crap I hope she is over 16. I hear the shower start…

Why dose this always happen, what is it about me that attracts the freaks. The shower is still running. I’ll offer her money, nothing gets rid of a chick faster than calling her a whore. Money! Where are my pants? I need my pants. I crumble to the floor and start searching the river of cloth. Something still doesn’t feel right, but I manage to emerge with pants on and a wallet in hand.

The shower’s stopped!