The afterimage of streetlights rushing past are like comets on the inside of her eyelids. XXX She thanks him for the lift, and flees. She remembers the man asking if a cute little thing like her had a boyfriend and her answer flying out of her mouth that she’d broken up with him six weeks ago. They reach her house, and pass it, she hears her voice say, subdued, almost resigned, I think you drove past, I live back there.. His voice a drone in her left ear. Sexually. Misgiving, gnawing at her brain. She stopped.That’s better. Where do you live? She trudged along, occasionally stumbling, drunk and scared and chilled to the bone. Being bent over the car hood, mouth frantically working to produce saliva, hand collecting it and swiping it between her legs before he forces his way in, a single bright and horrified
