She ping-ponged the hotel hall, searching for her room. Once inside, she only managed shoes before sprawling the bed.

Conference finished, the club was a rival's smirky suggestion. With three drinks down, resolution melted on a dance-floor pulsing with lust. Commanding hands and fire-red hair led her to a bathroom stall. On her knees, she suckled noisy honey, as women watched, hoping their turn would come.

In the morning, attempting resurrection, she found "call me bitch"and a number scrawled across her belly. She wondered which woman that was and if her husband remembered to put the trash bin out.