Author S. K. Nicholas

As I’m trying to write, she removes the laptop from my hands and slides down my trousers and pants. At first, I’m annoyed, and so is she because not much is going on but then I keep looking at her breasts and even though I don’t want to I can’t help it. Trying to watch what’s on Netflix, I keep looking over her shoulder but she blocks my view which is annoying because Twin Peaks is on and yet the more she shakes the more I can’t help but drool at the way they bounce and even though I call myself a writer the more she moves the more she makes me nothing more than an idiot. Sometimes she lactates. Sometimes she gets wet and drowns me in the process, and yet even though it annoys me that she gets in my room and messes up my stuff, she tastes so sweet that I let her do it again and again. When it’s over, I contemplate having a wash but can’t be bothered so we walk over to the pizza place across the road and order one pizza each and then I leave her to go to the store on the corner where I buy our alcohol and cigarettes. Handing over my cash and walking outside, snow begins to fall from the sky and lands on my face and when I find her waiting on the corner with our food she’s walking in circles with her arms outstretched and those eyes of hers as big as dinner plates in wonder as the snow falls more and more and even though it’s just another night this one will last forever. So we walk hand in hand back to mine and after we eat our food and drink our cans of Coke we entwine like vines and spend the rest of the night glued together drinking wine because even though I claim to be a lone wolf, without her, I come apart. Yeah, I come apart.

A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon.co.uk

A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon.com