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Hollywood Hills? —and standing again at intervals. Maybe she was waiting for someone, or just bored. I’m not a pervert, I’m too young for that, though I guess perverts could be my age. I wasn’t looking for a prostitute or a young woman to take advantage of; my intentions, at the time, were innocent enough. I just wanted her for my artistic ambitions—a model, put simply. Nothing other than that. I turned the key in the ignition, the engine starting noisily, and pulled out of the shopping center. I circled around the block a few times, and with each pass at the signal she was still there, still smoking, still sitting on that bench. Sometimes her legs would cross and the pant legs gathered at the knee, which was arousing. There was something about loose fabric gathered on a thin frame that was incredibly attractive. I parked at a meter in front of the station so I was only a few feet away. There was still a battle raging within my mind—approach her, do it, it won’t hurt; no, consider the consequences, consider the connotations, think about your reputation, think about how your actions can be interpreted; do it, you need a muse; don’t do it, Sheila’s around, Sheila will do; Sheila’s not good enough, you need something new, something fresh; last time you hired a model she went away in tears; this time will be different; you know how you get— The bottoms of my palms pushed so tightly into my eye sockets that when my eyelids reopened I saw a red and

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2009-10 Parallax  

Idyllwild Arts Academy Student Literature/Art Magazine 2009-10

2009-10 Parallax  

Idyllwild Arts Academy Student Literature/Art Magazine 2009-10

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