The last pool Tiff ever sat in had been a motel sharer, shaped like a heart with all the neon lights pointing down like some kind of 80's fever dream. It had been real romantic; she and Chucky had slit a guys throat and watched him sink down with two bricks tied to his ankles while they toasted two shirley temples. This thing is bigger, of course - could hold a whole football team.
She isn't swimming in it. Not today, not tomorrow - chlorine always messes with the bleach, always gets the tone just shy of green-yellow. Instead she saunters around the back in her one-piece and sheer robe, unlit cigarette in hand, quietly looking for the necessities: rope, chlorine, tarp. All the stuff a girl might need while on a little vacation from the void.
She finds Carmy instead, cigarette lit, and weighs him up. A little shorter; nice face. The kind of pretty boy that always looks sweet when they're begging. She smiles wide, says, near embarrassed: "Can you believe I left my lighter in my room? You wouldn't happen to have one, would you sweetface?"
pool party, 1
She isn't swimming in it. Not today, not tomorrow - chlorine always messes with the bleach, always gets the tone just shy of green-yellow. Instead she saunters around the back in her one-piece and sheer robe, unlit cigarette in hand, quietly looking for the necessities: rope, chlorine, tarp. All the stuff a girl might need while on a little vacation from the void.
She finds Carmy instead, cigarette lit, and weighs him up. A little shorter; nice face. The kind of pretty boy that always looks sweet when they're begging. She smiles wide, says, near embarrassed: "Can you believe I left my lighter in my room? You wouldn't happen to have one, would you sweetface?"