The Fighter

He had come in all banged up. I normally lust after the tall ones, and he is relatively short -- Having just returned from a weekend of Mixed Martial Arts, His left eye was swollen. He had a bruise across his right cheek bone. But he was smiling. He was smiling, and happy, and kind, and gentle, brought in freshly made frittatas: “You know he’d do it. “But Katie’s a nice woman. She really is a great woman. I love her. I absolutely love her.” I want him to slam me against the bathroom wall, tear off my clothes, restrain my arms and have his way with me. It would be so easy. So easy for such a quick, cheap thrill. It is winter, after all (Too cold for roller coasters). I roll it around, taste it on my tongue. “Oh,that Katie, you would love her. I miss her. She’s just the happiest, cutest little thing” I’m too old for that. I’m thirty now. I have morals now. I have morals. I tell her so, Tell her! -- Tell her I have morals! -- I finger his card in my Rolodex, Make note of the ten-digit number.