Tequila

Pennylane wore shiny cheap plastic knee high boots with the pointed toe and pencil heel. Stumbling sandy steps forty miles frim Tijuanna. She wore a strippers silk skirt, swishing against pale, thin thighs. Penny was seducing salvation in Augusts torrid sandy impoverished paradise. Pacific air, pushed up, wretched rock cliff faces, blowing her small frame, tossing sand to mix with the blow in her purse. She'd hold her tequila bottled tight, exposing small white knuckles clinging to clear fluid clutching and encasing the desert water. Corrupting, coursing, pushing, spinning the trapped little worm. She hated and loved the caged creature, she liked that her grasp, staggering step could control his motion and at bottle's end, she could swallow his fate.