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  It was the kind of day that made no difference. Cloudy gray skies loomed over in a perpetual flow of misery. My state of mind was not a friendly status. I had already woken up on the left side of the bed, although waking up on the right does little to sway my voter registration. I thought nothing good would come from this ‘Good Friday.’ It had already been jinxed in the name of religion.

  It began to downpour relentlessly after I step foot outside my home. I watched as the domestic cars drove by with caution. The filth of dirty choices was being cleansed after each falling raindrop. A gift from mother nature. Windshield wipers were on high, going as fast as they could to prevent an accident. I followed the example of the windshield wipers, and moved as quickly as I could to the corner store for a pack of much needed cigarettes.

  I nervously told the clerk what I wanted. Then I noticed how her nametag heightened the blue color of her desperate eyes. A plan occurred to me of how to interact in a charming way. At the time I was single, and infatuated with this struggling worker. Asking for cigarettes was hard enough. I felt like I was back in high school, asking out a girl who exceeded my standards. I don’t know if it was God or my conscious, but I heard the words, “This is going to hurt.”

  Call me indecisive, but to this very day I can’t figure out whether it was fate, destiny or some kind of divine retribution. At the time I labeled it as a miracle. I ended up picking her up after work.

  I felt like the luckiest man in Pittsburgh in that precise moment. Awarded the finest piece of ass this side of Dormont. All it took was a little small talk and a glass of beer. I was in.

   I told her its been awhile as I waved around an expired condom. She licked her lips and told me to enter with caution. So I did. Assuring her of her own self beauty. I remember her saying something like, “That’s what they all say, and believe me, they’re all the same.”

  The sex was amazing, even though it only lasted for five minutes. I felt like I was transcending as the much needed whiteness of the orgasm helped to nullify the darkness of this otherwise dismal evening. I’ll never forget the odorless aroma of her unforgiving vagina. Or her last words, “You’ll never forget me.”

  Breaking up the monotony through sexual intercourse is a good course of action. I was still single, but happy to kiss away the months of celibacy. Looking back on that night though, it would’ve been safer to have self indulged with cheap lotion and clean fingers.
She was right. I’ll never forget the sexy clerk with an odorless vagina. Every time I pull down my pants, she’s on my mind. Especially, when I have a breakout.



Michael Marrotti is an author from Pittsburgh using words instead of violence to mitigate the suffering of life in a callous world of redundancy. His primary goal is to help other people. He considers poetry to be a form of philanthropy. When he’s not writing, he’s volunteering at the Light Of Life homeless shelter on a weekly basis. If you appreciate the man’s work, please check out his for his latest poetry and short stories.


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