The pushup bra lifted her cleavage into perfect orbs. She balanced the blue metal foldout chair with fresh paint specks on a single back leg while laz...ly flipping through the yellow, dog eared pages of ‘On The Road’ by John Kerouac. ‘The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like. ”I shake her hand off my face and press on her sternum with my forefinger, hard. “Get out my way.”“One last thing, little one.” She bends her knees and reaches for the buckle for my jeans. I gasp in surprise and step backwards, but she follows. I try to take her hands off of me, but God, she’s strong. Her face turns from a smile to a snarl as I’ve backed up against the toilet of the stall, nowhere else to turn. My jeans are unbuckled. I try to scream, but one of her hands slams down on my mouth. More

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