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Shielding his eyes he turned his face toward the causeway bridge. She slid off the rail, looking at him, a hand on her hip. Pretty aggressive stance, he was thinking; and that she could use a little heft up top and in the rear. The naked painted girls in Times Square looked fleshy on the internet. Deter calling it a flesh parade. He’d never seen anything like it, not even here at the beach with those thong bikinis. The naked painted girls posing with the tourists, eating hot dogs, drinking soda through straws, petting dogs. He couldn’t get them out of his mind. Every square inch of flesh painted. “When I get back Luanne we should get married.” The first time in weeks he saw her smile. For real. Softening. Sooner or later Luanne always softened. He circled the top of her arm with one finger, whispering baby, baby. The sun’s strange orange glinting off her teeth, making them gold, off the white of her T-shirt where he could smell Clorox, the palm trees, line of parking meters, sides of cars trolling the main drag. Everything aglow in its own way. And, would be again when he got back. “So we’re OK?” “Mister.” She said it real throaty. Had this way of working her tongue at the corner of her mouth. Super sexy shit. He wanted to take her into the back bedroom but Mama was awake. “So we’re good?” Luanne checked her phone. He watched her move lightly down the few steps of the deck, slide into his car and pull away. Before he could do anything. 124

Profile for Mojave River Media

Mojave River Review spring/summer 2019  

The Mojave River Review spring/summer 2019 issue spotlights superb poetry and prose by brilliant contributors from around the globe. Enjoy 2...

Mojave River Review spring/summer 2019  

The Mojave River Review spring/summer 2019 issue spotlights superb poetry and prose by brilliant contributors from around the globe. Enjoy 2...

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