her clothes reeked of cheap perfume and daddy issues polyester black cloth elegant and purposeful in its placing she lived by the motto “everything is free if you run fast enough” and figured that something was going to **** her anyway why not let it be something of her own design?
she asserted this often taking a drag of her pernicious cigarette forcing her careful and cultivated opinions on everyone within shouting distance if only to silence the sadist inside
besides she had already walked in loneliness through most of a lifetime full of satin bows and amusement ahead of her for she had no one to go with, neither kith nor kin so it might as have happened now because everyone always loves you better when you’re dead
mediocrely morbid (thats not a word) and kind of lame. still, fun to write and hopefully fun to read.