By Kit Couter
By Kit Couter

By Alexis Rhone Fancher

1. the players:
Cybil & her 3 Rottweilers join us at the beach. Sally comes with Dr. Diane who
says if I needed anything medical she’s my guy. That night me and Mickey are
fucking, getting a little loud. Dr. Diane sniffs around, hang-dog, all “Jesus,
mamasita. Make me howl like that.”

2. the complications:
Sally must have her on a short leash. Next night when the ocean spits sand in
my cornea, Dr. Diane corners me in the john, just under the pulsing, overhead
light, removes the culprit from my eye, tapes it shut w/ a white gauze patch.

3. resolve out the window:
She locks the door. Licks the beach salt from my face.“I heard you two last night.
What’s Mickey got, makes you yowl like a cat?” Oh, how did my legs become
wrapped around her face, her pinpoint tongue ramming into me, slamming my ass
against the sink? “Mea Culpa.”

4. the excuse:
I’m a sucker for sweet talk. A sycophant for sin. Half-blinded by the gauze patch.
Born to give in.

5. the denouement:
Sally’s outside the door. Mickey sleeps like a baby. Dr. Diane swears that
after she’s married, nothing between us will change. While Cybil walks the
Rottweilers, I escape down the beach. Dr. Diane retreats to Sally’s low
self-esteem. They decide to go for Chinese.When Mickey awakens,
nobody’s home.

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