He is still in my bed. Funny. When a guy brings back a girl for a one night stand, he expects her to be gone before the sun, but when he comes to her place, he can make himself comfortably at home.
I stand naked at the foot of my bed, watching him sleep. He has coarse stubble on his chin and jawline. I guess that’s why my upper lip is burning like fire. His nose is flat and wide, his eyes too far apart, his eyebrows almost meet together in a unibrow. He was much cuter last night. Alcohol really is a powerful drug.
I take a pair of shorts and a sports bra from my dresser. I slip into them and snatch my iPod and ear buds from the table on my way out the door. The morning, San Francisco air is chillier than I expected, but I plug in my ear buds and commence my jog. He’d better be gone by the time I get back. I’m not cooking breakfast.
word count: 173
This is in response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers: write a story in 100-150 words (give or take 25 words) using the provided photo prompt as inspiration.
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