By the time I was twenty-nine I’d been scorned enough to know better. But I was weak and she was everything missing.

It started off innocent, flirtatious bar-banter. Seductive glances that were blind to the diamond glint. Then we were alone and my arousal was nursing the sting of torn skin. Her cigarette-flavored tongue was buried deep between lips that could not taste. She took my mind to places I’d fantasized about so often, so vividly that even as I came, it hardly seemed real.

When I awoke, the room was empty and I was back to wanting everything missing.