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But despite searching the flat from top to bottom he’d found nothing, it was like she’d never been there. If it wasn’t for the two cold mugs of ...offee on the living room table, he would have written it off as a rather enjoyable, very vivid alcohol induced dream, but his mind wouldn’t let him do that. Despite the amount he’d had to drink that night he still remembered every part of it with perfect clarity, and the hollow feeling inside his chest just confirmed his suspicions. She had just been. She went to the ice box of the fridge, fished out a vanilla and returned. She peeled the dark wrapper back for him, and although she fought the image in her head, much as she imagined peeling back his foreskin might be like, assuming he still had one. She had decided on a double chocolate sweet for herself. Sitting a few feet away on the garden bench, she started to lick the decidedly cold, long, and wet dark chocolate ice. In the hot sun, where he sat, it didn’t take long of course, for the. More

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