We talked, we drank, and we ordered some finger food. I looked around the bar.“Black Bush,” I whispered loudly, drunk but trying not to sound so, ...��Is this a gay bar? Every couple is girl-girl or boy-boy”.Melissa leaned over to me, putting her hand on my stocking covered thigh under the table, “Red Bush, yes, it is. Is that okay? I think the woman bartending may actually be a guy…and our waitress keeps eyeing you in a good kind of way. But you are all mine!” and she kissed me. I didn’t resist. A. He is the painter and she is his easel. Standing over the cask of what was once a college girl the man begins to wipe blood from his trousers. This is the last moments of her life. This young woman, who hasn’t done much, is now lying and waiting for him to disrupt a quiet perfection. A scream tears through the background. Shoulders still the man turns to walk back towards the main road. The woods are dense. Trees scratch like fingers against his tan flesh. 5’9 he navigates through underbrush.. More

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