Still working up a 3WW.
But there has been another death in my clan, a favorite aunt, who we honored Tuesday during her funeral.
So, a slight slip of nanofiction today:
All this talk of death has her mildly aroused.
She’s sitting at the coffee house, pretending to read a thick fashion magazine stuffed with inserts and perfume samples. But really, she’s listening to a couple of teens dressed in black discuss their suicidal thoughts in hushed tones toward the bottom of their recycled-paper cups.
Their angst is her aphrodisiac.
Their pain, her pleasure.