cmhemingwa

I feel like I was particularly mature when I went by the name of Adrian Cole. Of course I would since it was the name on my fake ID.

“Come with me a moment.” he said. With worn down palms facing the sapphire sky, he offered me an escape. I was pinned between the rough brick wall of the brothel I worked at and the man who was my once lover.

Every spring, I visited my girlfriend until the year I met Ignatius Zachary. My girlfriend lived down in Mexico for a certain charity job, she never really told me about it.

A real lady, that’s what I would call her. She was called many other things, most of which were degrading. A real lady she was rarely called, I was really the only one to do it, but to her it was water off a duck’s back.

To the others I seem crazy. I don’t have much, barely scraping by in this soul sucking place our damned souls call home, but what leftovers I have, I give to the crows.