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There were countless uninteresting boxes, piled up with clothes, trinkets, books… I turn as I see the box of books. Grandma had always loved reading... but even more so writing. Under an ancient lightbulb sits a pile of warn out black books. The first one’s cover reading 1973-78 in grandmas writing. My eyes widen as I scatter through them. They don’t seem to be in any order. Around half way something catches my eye, a book with the title “2014-2020”. Staring at the book for a moment I pick it up. Thirty-one next month, two years without a promotion and I'm still living alone in a studio apartment. It's all so depressing. At least I don't have a cat … yet.How many times the door opened and closed, Laura lost track. Hot rocks hissed. The steam thickened. Almost certain she was alone, she snaked her hand under her big towel. Her fingertips roamed to her neatly trimmed sex. Between the sultry vapor and her touch, her stress melted. Hearing nothing but her own pulse, she caressed her inner. More

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