Savages

170

She can smell him.

His sweat, his breath

As he comes toward her.

O twists her head away but

He stands right over, breathes into her face, stares

Into her face with those

Cold black eyes

She

Cries she

Chokes on her panic she

Can’t turn it off.

Yeah, but you have to, girl, O tells herself.

She makes herself take a deep breath. Time to stop being girlie-girl about this. Time to cowgirl up, show some ovaries. She gets off the bed, walks to the door, and pounds on it.

“Yo!” she yells. “I want Internet access!”