This drag of my Pall Mall long filter was especially tasty. I have been writing what seemed for days on end. She, I still had yet to learn her name. I merely felt obligated to her in some hypnotic way. She had rolled out stories of her tongue like honey dripping from it's comb. I could only write them down, no questions, no comments! Just transfer the information from her lips to my paper. The only thing more odd than this was what I used for ink.
"This will be my Blood Diary!" she whispered. At this point I already was in for the long haul! I witnessed her slice into her wrist like it was butter. The blood poured out and into a beautiful sterling silver ink canister. Weird, but following a woman into an abandoned warehouse it the meat packing district wasn't? As I said before, LONG HAUL! I was not a writer, merely a columnist. A shady, two bit hack version at best. I wrote for the Kansas City Monitor, which was a glorified National Enquirer. We liked to think we had class, but really we were a bunch of washed up journalists who couldn't cut it in the majors.
How she knew it would be me to write her story? I still don't know exactly. I highly doubt she read me editorial on aliens landing on KU campus. Like I said hack columnist! Still I had to give it to her, she made me feel something I hadn't in a long time. Drive! Desire! The need to uncover a story. Even though she was just lobbing it to me like a pitcher in the ninth inning! I was the one getting the scoop. I had a rush of adrenaline that made every drag particularly tingly. It also helped to have that fifth of Crown Royal down my gullet!
"Shall we continue?" She whispered behind me!
She had a way of sneaking up on a person. Creepy and effective. Still it was very exciting, and erotic. A woman who could take charge and call the shots. Not unlike my ex, but sexier. The impossibility of the stories she was telling me didn't bother me at all. That is until we started in the sixteenth century!
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