By K. Miller
Once the surge of adrenaline left her body she was naked and alone, save his corpse. She glanced at his exposed body—bloated skin, thin hair combed over a shiny crown, American flag flip-flops dangling off his feet.
Though she didn’t even know his name his choice in footwear surprised her. It reminded her how little she knew about the people who frequented her life. She often made five-minute friends, quickly sending them out the door before they had a chance to change their mind.
But he’d been looking for more than five minutes, and she simply had none to spare.
Is this a poor hooker and a rich American? It immediately made me think of the film Hostel, a gem of a horror film. This is macabre writing of quality.
Whoa! That was quite horrifying! Be careful guys!
I need to add that it was also excellently written.