Monday, December 8, 2008

Overdose

He asked them for a real love potion. He had wanted her forever: stuck-up bitch. She looked at him differently. He had a room reserved. He wanted to make her do things but couldn’t get hard. She wouldn’t stop kissing him anyway.

She called every hour: I feel crazy; I must see you. You gave her too much, they said. Every day she found a new reason to love him: he thought: bullshit. Their spouses left. She gave up everything; he came prematurely. She would stay outside his door all night. When she killed herself, he thought: what a rip-off.

1 comment:

arthur said...

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/12/arts/12page.html?_r=1&hp