Hey, just for one tic - I just went back and re-read some of this story - the last post I wrote doesn't flow as nicely as I want it to. I'm trying to figure out how to fix it, but I'm too tired. I can't wrap my head around how to smooth it out right now, but I wanted to get Leigh into the action - so getting her out of the apartment was necessary.
Doc: "paranoid?" Fuck, that was not what I was going for - I was trying to get across that she was someone who had tried to change her spots, but in the end, despite all the money and her material trappings, she can't. It's going to take me longer to get that out there, I know, but I hope that I'm able to get that across with time.
In truth, I'm trying to suss out who the characters are - all of them. But I guess that's part of the fun in participating in something like this.
Dear, sweet Harley Kwink...I'm madly in love with you. Marry me! We can go to Canadia. Or Boston or something. It'll be grand...You know the cookies are a given. They are ALWAYS a given. You could dump me tomorrow and you'd still get the cookies. Boston..shit, wherever dyke weddings were legalized. And where better to rub their little piggie noses in how bad they suck than right on their doorstep? What are they gonna do? Be jealous of you? Stare furiously at your tah-tahs? Not willingly give you cookies, but instead begrudgingly give you their cookies? Woman, time to wake up to the powers you wield - Uschi
