It was late when they got there. The hospital corridors were pretty empty as they rolled her body, covered in a white sheet now down to the morgue. Sh... cringed a little bit when they took off her shoes and tossed them into a little brown bag. They were Momma's shoes, and real expensive too. Then they took out a pair of scissors and cut her pantyhose at her right ankle. It tickled a little bit as they tied a little tag to her big toe. She giggled a little bit. Being dead was way more fun than. Mr. Monet had painted me. As I was staring at the canvas, I felt him touching me. He threw his arms around me and pressed his body against mine. He held my hips and lowered his face into my neck. I could feel his breath on my skin, I could even hear it. I tried to keep my thoughts with the painting, but that proved sheer impossible. "I want you to know," he whispered, "I had no such intentions."I already knew that. I did not either, and yet it had happened. I had fallen for the thought of being. More

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