X. (narrow film)

He tells me "...barely any meat on them bones". Cackling.

 

I pull the film forward then back, singe it with the heating rod. Tuck in the corners. Feel satisfaction. Drop it on the hot-plate. Tag it. Feel like a mortician.

 

"Every man likes meat on them bones. Ain't nothin' you got there but bones.." I feel myself blush and I am terribly aware that my hands smell like marrow.

Reviews

[Leap]

Yes, yes, yes again. Damn, you have some magnificent last lines. Oh, and f**k him.

[DavidRyanM]

The whole thing is awesome. Yet another showing of your brilliance and talent at writing. The last line is amazing. Bringing out the insecurity of the character in a quiet, subtle way. "Smell like marrow"...awesome. Well done, darlin.