Casey was stunning in an oversized white sweater and red leggings. It didn’t matter to me. “Are you Casey?” He asked. She’s in bad shape but she’ll be ok.”
I thanked him and went back inside. She never deviated from her routine. She couldn’t hook it with the cast. “Are you Casey?” He asked. One Sunday morning she was banging on my door at 730am. It was a cop car. On the weekends she wasn’t normally home but Monday to Friday it was always the same. There was blood everywhere. After I’d landed a few more shots I stopped hitting her and went back to fucking that pussy. I could see her reflection and she was beautiful. It didn’t matter to me. The instant I opened the door she was shouting at me about a tree branch that fell from my tree into her yard and how I better get my “drunk ass” out there and get it picked up. After midnight I brought my garbage bag in and burned everything in my fireplace. It didn’t matter to me. She yelled at the poor kid for almost 5 full minutes.
