“I’m in bed,” Cassie purred. “Lying on my back.”
“Lovely. So what are you wearing?” the voice in her ear asked.
“Mmm, a white ribbed tank top. The thin, classic kind.”
“A wife beater?”
“Oh. My. Gawd. I can’t believe you said that. That’s so politically incorrect. I hate it when women call them ‘wife beaters’. It’s just wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.”
Her voice rose to a breathy moan on the last “wrong”.
Then there was nothing on the line but the ambient hiss of distant contact.
“You there?”
“I am. Are you done?
“Yeah . . . I think I’ll go now.”
“Okay.”
Cassie hung up the phone.
#100#
WTF?! That’s all I get? I live for your posts and am addicted to checking to see if a new posting is eagerly awaiting me so I can devour it.
You know, with all my travel, it’s a great way to keep the entertainment going between airports…
Glad i finally found a moment to go through your website, some really cool stuff on here. Really liked this, it was witty. Reminds me of a stand up poet i saw recently in Dalston.
Glad you made it, too! Welcome…
Ha! I *just* had almost the same conversation.