Buzz Cut
“Thorn watched her for a while, her face lit intermittently by the distant bursts of lightning. The flashes coming as steadily as heartbeats, Monica's face suffused with light as though her flesh were pulsing from within.
Lying on the other side of the bed, he closed his eyes and listened to the soggy rumble of the ship. He fingered the tender lump on his temple and found his mind reconstructing the image of Monica's body. Hearing again their brief conversation.
A woman of the next gener...ation. For years he'd watched her kind frolicking on the beach at Vacation Island, flaunting their iridescent thongs, their taut tans. Pounding across the choppy Atlantic on Jet Skis while they screamed with airy abandon. He'd never managed a successful conversation with one of them before and had not surrendered to the delights one or two had offered.
Thorn had been Monica's age once. About a week ago. Remembering it as a time when fish mattered far more than people.MoreLess
Lying on the other side of the bed, he closed his eyes and listened to the soggy rumble of the ship. He fingered the tender lump on his temple and found his mind reconstructing the image of Monica's body. Hearing again their brief conversation.
A woman of the next gener...ation. For years he'd watched her kind frolicking on the beach at Vacation Island, flaunting their iridescent thongs, their taut tans. Pounding across the choppy Atlantic on Jet Skis while they screamed with airy abandon. He'd never managed a successful conversation with one of them before and had not surrendered to the delights one or two had offered.
Thorn had been Monica's age once. About a week ago. Remembering it as a time when fish mattered far more than people.MoreLess
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