As the night drew late, the empty bottles and Dominos piled up, and people began sneaking off in twos, I made my move by joining her for a smoke outsi...e. (Because smoking was still cool then). After some BS small talk and close L forehead, face and I know it is a crime, all in her hair. We hung out on the bed for a couple minutes and lit up a smoke. Not a word was spoken, except by her, asking me if she was good. Of course I said yes, you were great. She got dressed and said she had to go. Of logic. There is no such thing as coincidence,” the voice was filled with contempt.“Emotions are fickle things. We could manipulate them to serve our best interest,” the other concluded.“The servant is the key. We shall start with him,” came the short conclusion, and both men dressed in grey clothes fell silent, again nothing but the quill against the paper breaking the morbid quietness of the room.~A Good Servant~John was out almost every evening. It was driving Dion crazy with a feeling he. More

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