My One Night Stand (Not Sorry)


A Pierman Sister

Wayne.

I met him busking on a street corner, hustling for a meal and a place to bed down for the night. Something about him caught my eye. He was scruffy—left eye clearly indicated he had been in a recent skirmish. That only added to his appeal. Everyone likes a bad boy.

I left him there on the corner but he followed me home. He wouldn’t give me his name. As wide as he was tall, sporting what was clearly a homemade haircut and that one bad eye—he made me think of John Wayne, so I called him Wayne. When we got to my house I gave pause to what was about to occur. I knew the danger but I asked him inside and I gave him that meal anyway. His soft brown eyes said everything but he still didn’t speak.

We went to bed that evening with no words…

View original post 187 more words

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s