Body count is not something I ask about when dating. After we’re married I’ll just treat her dexterity as unspoken backstory, like a monk who seems familiar with the blade
This was it: the first day of junior high. I burst into Mr. Milson's math class like fragments of semi-molten copper piercing the exterior of a humvee outside the Green Zone and shredding the US diplomatic personnel within. It was going to be a great year.
she let me hit because she has let me hit for generations in an infinite number of past lives in the karmic cycle. sometimes as four horned antelopes, as a speck of pollen on a bluebell flower, or even as algae surrounding hydrothermal vents on the deep sea floor