It's an interesting thought, but it is true. The reason for that issimple. Tourists. Not that I have anything against them, but theyoverrun the sidewalks. It is annoying. And then when there is a familyof them fanned out on the sidewalk, and that forces you to walk in thestreet, it makes you despise them.But enough of all that.I was walking through Central Park and going about my day. Which so farhad, been going pretty shitty. My girlfriend Chrissy broke up with me.And that really shouldn't piss me off, but it did. Only because herbitch of a friend Kara made up some bogus story that I cheated on her."Fucking hell... What a bitch," I muttered under my breath.Not for nothing, but that isn't my style. To cheat? I have been cheatedon, and the way that it makes you feel like nothing. Literally. It alsomakes you feel like shit. As if you are not good enough for the person.Then comes the self-doubt. Did I do something wrong to make them cheat?It's a vicious cycle.Anyway, Kara told Chrissy. ‘Yes, I love emerald green,’ she said and smiled, as he raised the glob of glass. ‘Then you must have it, little darlin’,’ he said. ‘You can touch it. It’s just warm now. Here, I have a strip of leather we can use to make a necklace out of it.’ She took it in her hand. The people around were watching them, but she didn’t see them. All she saw was a lovely piece of glass—and, more important, a gift. A freely given gift. She’d had damn few free gifts given to her in her lifetime. She watched, almost in tears, as David wove the leather strip through the hole in the glass slug, knotted it, and lifted it to put over her head. She shuddered in remembrance of his embrace as he brought his bare chest close to her and put his arms around her shoulders to put the necklace in place. His animal magnetism was making her think only of the good parts of having sex with him—her breasts pressed into his bulging pectorals, with her hands caressing his biceps, and him inside her, thick and long,.
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