She would keep her wallet handy. A purse would be too lady-like, she hated touch-ups anyway. You are so beautiful , shall I compare thee..

“To a summer’s day?? No! I’d prefer an icy windy night”, she laughed.

“Err..excuse me miss, shall I come by 3?”, the old drunk was desperate.

“Oh.. No No, let’s leave now, $200 is fine.”

Strolling out hand in hand, she rushed back.. Snatched her wallet.. Thumbed the space key he had thrown at her, ripped from the blackberry he used to write sonnets on.


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