Bad night we picked to run off. Darker than a banker’s soul out here and the clouds don’t help none. Daisy’s late and I best get lookin’ for her. Love that woman a powerful lot, but she’s precious little good at gettin’ around in the woods.
Up ahead, moon’s come out a bit, givin’ off just enough light for me to see her. Damn girl done wandered right off the edge of Turner’s Bluff and is layin’ there all broke up and unnatural-lookin’.
I give her cold lips a final kiss and make my way home. No sense runnin’ now.
This is my weekly addition to the Friday Fictioneers Challenge