She
waited by the gas station bathroom, took a deep inhale of her unfiltered camel
and started throwing smoke rings with each breath. She watched the rings
dissipate in the 4 a.m. air. It was cold and she could feel her nipples harden
against the scratchy wool sweater her mother gave her that last time she was in
Missouri. As she dropped her cigarette butt into a diet whatever soda can she
did a handstand in the middle of the parking lot thinking things might shift in
her gut. A car drove by blasting rap, she stood up and could feel the beat of
the loud music in her body and it made her feel silly. She wanted to be silly.
She banged on the bathroom door again and this time it slammed open. She was
surprised and a little pissed that she’d waited all this time it was empty. She
locked the door, pulled her pants down, sat on the toilet, dug around in her
purse, thought about those tall stands of pines they’d passed on the road and
looked for an outlet for her vibrator.
Kik
Williams
The
Goldfinch
Donna
Tartt