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The currier (366 words)
"So, what do I do know?"
"I don't know, you tell me." The face in the mirror replied.
"Hell, I don't know either. You're a lot of help." I said.
After staring at myself for a few more moments I looked over my shoulder through the bathroom door at the beautiful, but somewhat older woman lying in her bed. She was on her stomach facing away from me. The sheets were gently hugging her curves from the waste down. I don't know what it is about older women. They are compassionate but not desperate. They tend to have a worldly essence in their eyes that say, "It's okay. I understand." I need that at this point in my life. Someone to understand but that was unlikely. I have been living from friend to friend and the occasional welcoming woman. My work more than keeps me busy. Being on call 24/7 is a rough life. You have to be passionate about you work to be that dedicated to it.
I rinsed the rest of the shaving cream from behind my ears, double check to see if I missed any spots and cleaned up after my self. I know, I know. A man cleaning up after himself. It does happen you know. Even if a woman doesn't witness it!
I walked back to the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. She let out a sleepy moan and pulled the sheet up over her shoulders. She was a lovely woman. Under different circumstances, I could have seen myself having a happy life with her. I placed my hand on her hip and grabbed my hand, trying to pull me back into bed with her.
"Sorry, I wish could. I have to get to work." She let out a disappointed whimper as I slid my hand from hers. She folded her arms close to her chest and was fast asleep again. I got dressed and turned out the lights.
"Goodbye my Dear." I said. I opened the gym bag and checked the timer once more. Everything was set properly. I zipped the bag closed, slid it under her bed and walked outside to another beautiful sunrise.
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