By Shiv Rayani
My beacon of unspeakable pleasure, I’ve travelled far through the uncertainty of night. The roads were ribboned black with streetlights singeing gold. My pulse revved the engine at the very thought: checking in; boarding; taking off; landing together, safely. See, I’m craving that heavenly touch at this ungodly hour. To scream Hallelujah from reddened pockets of Eden. Let me be your tiger. Hunt, trail, and shoot ’til I can roar no more…
Crystal puffs a lungful out the passenger window, flicking ash off its tail.
“It’ll cost more than fancy words to get another nibble of this cookie, mister writer man.”
I like this. Verbose — then *pow* — right in the kisser. Roar no more? For a price.
I liked this one very much – ended well.