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She took the bag quickly, sniffled, and whipped her nose. As she walked away, the man that stuffed her cash into his waistband flashed a rotten smile and called out to her, “You know Wendy, you don’t need cash for this kind of shit!” He laughed to himself and coughed. Wendy looked back without anything to say and continued walking back to her motel room. Her high heels clapped on the concrete. A drunken man swaggered out of an alley and half-heartedly blocked her path. “You’re a sexy bit…” He vomited a little onto his stained mechanics uniform and fell onto his knees. “You should wipe your mouth.” She continued on her way. Behind her the man helped himself up, but was met by a man whose head was covered by a black sweatshirt.
A blinking sign outside the motel promised HBO and clean beds to its parishioners, a congregation of cheap whores and broken spirits. Wendy looked at the girl, struggling to darn her torn dress, standing alone in the parking lot. She held her black stilettos in one hand and her stretched panties in the other. Her mascara was running, but she didn’t seem upset. She was high, paid and didn’t really care that she had just fucked four men, the first of which has goneria. Clutching her knock off bag that didn’t resemble the original, Wendy searched blindly for her room key. Her mascara had opened itself and stained everything she held a deep, cheap, black. She cursed without conviction and entered her room. Kicking off her heels, she set her purse down on the bathroom counter.
Gazing into the mirror she saw only the room behind her; her pretty, but aging face blocked some of her view. Between her half-exposed breasts, a small chain reflected speckled florescent light into her cold eyes. Clothes were strewn throughout the twelve by fifteen foot room. Bras hung lackadaisically on chairs overlooking a small mountain range of short skirts and low-cut shirts. Wendy passed her hand through her hair, pushing her bangs behind her ears. Starting with the cracked tube of mascara, she emptied the contents of her soiled purse onto the counter. Next to it she dropped three cherry flavored condoms, a blackened tampon, four packs of cinnamon gum, six crumbled, black and green bills and a bag of heroin.
“Fuck,” she looked at the items and then into her purse. Behind her a man entered the room; Wendy didn’t look up. “Bitch, where’s that smack at?” He made his way through the tangled clothing that littered the floor and grabbed her by the shoulder. His lips kissed her neck softly and he ran his hand down the front of her dress. Wendy sighed. “It’s there on the counter.” He spun her around and pushed her onto the bed. Picking up the stained bag he turned to Wendy and, violently, grabbed her by the jaw. Wincing she said nothing. After a brief moment of silence she grabbed his wrist and said, “It’s still alright, my make up spilled in my purse. That’s all. It ain’t like-.” He cut her off, “Is that right? You know I’m not an idiot, I can see that this is still fine, but look at this shit. It’s all over the purse I bought you. You know that bag wasn’t cheap.” “I kno-,“ He smacked her across the face and stood up. “Shut up, I don’t really want to hear anything out of your mouth right now.”
Looking at Wendy, her hair half covering her face, nursing the red mark on her cheek, he felt a tickle of lust beginning in his stomach pass into his balls. He looked at her thighs, and the way her dress had fallen off of her shoulder almost exposing her milky white breasts. “It’s alright Wendy,” he said with a horny compassion. He touched her cheek and moved her hair out of her face. He apologized idly and walked over to the door. Taking his shirt off, he fastened the chain on the door securely. “I think I’ve got a big deal going; we’re going to celebrate.” Wendy looked neither unimpressed nor enthusiastic. She took a hair tie from the table next to the bed and prepared herself saying, “That’s great Daniel.” He took off his belt and threw it at a chair, but missed and it landed in the pile of dirty clothes below it. Wendy slipped off her panties and held them for a moment, before tossing them aside. Daniel removed the rest of his clothes, and took a dominate position over Wendy. He pulled up her dress and she moaned, convincingly, out of habit.
They fucked and shot up.
In an opium dream Wendy found herself. Walking through a field of sunflowers beneath a black sky she heard the distant sound of plucked stings that was unfamiliar to her. The sky was dark, but she could see by the illuminating light casting off of each of the bright yellow flowers. Every single one of the pedals burned like a life giving star and vibrantly promised the security and love that only a flower’s non-sentience can offer truly. The sky cracked like the sound of a gunshot, and then again, and again. Sunflower seeds began to fall lightly from above her head. Continuing on through the fields, Wendy passed a young boy lying among the stalks. He played a lyre sweetly while chewing on the falling seeds. He spat. It was red, like blood, but he only smiled and continued playing. He began to sing the most beautiful song and she felt it resonate behind her breasts. “Behind fertile seas, I live without anything to say. I’ve been following you, but I can’t escape.”
Behind her, Wendy could hear the sound of soggy earth churning. One of the sunflowers had torn itself out of the ground and transformed into a gorgeous girl. Its pedals softened into long, immaculate, golden hair and endless brown eyes formed from the seeds that had now become the maiden’s face. She wore a green dress that faded into her pure, white skin, flawlessly and revealed the body of a natural living goddess. A large flower behind her decapitated itself and floated behind her head forming a radiant diadem that shone into Wendy’s eyes, drawing her gaze to the woman’s face. The angelic figure kissed Wendy’s cheek and split her semen stained dress from her body. Standing there naked she began to dance with the girl to boy’s song which resonated from her chest. Overcome by a joyous lust, Wendy embraced her partner and their breasts entered one another. Wendy spoke so softly that her words were inaudible over the enchanting music, “I love you.” She became herself. The dress felt smooth, almost wet on her skin and it reminded her of her first orgasm.
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