It and her high-cut panties were a delicate semi-transparent lace.She tidied her hair as best she could – her frizzy blonde curls were uncontrollabl... at the best of times – fixed her makeup then slipped into her 3" shoes and went down to the kitchen to wait for the taxi. John was already sitting at the kitchen table, idly swirling some water around the bottom of a tumbler. Gosh, he did look quite the man in his dinner jacket and tie: the maroon cummerbund setting it off a treat. But he was. I heard someone say, in a hushed, almost reverent tone “Oh shit, I think he’s really hurt.”I couldn’t move my hands. I didn’t even want to try. The wrists were already swelling grotesquely, turning purple. What hurt worst, what cut through the pain that was already leaking through the adrenaline, what really cut deep, was the pitying look on Shannon’s face as she looked down at my crumpled body. I could already hear the two-tone howl of the ambulance approaching. What a stupid maneuver.All in. More

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