He walked out onto the cold dark road, wearing only a pair of worn jeans and a tattered leather jacket to shield himself from the skin bristling air. As he walked, a cloud of fog appeared and vanished in front of his mouth. The frost bit at his ears and stung his nose. The street was abandoned, nearly pitch black if not for the store signs that illuminated the sidewalks…John’s Liquor, Sally’s Dresses, The Lo o…each with their own slight contribution of light, though some flickered, faded, or were just missing letters. The pavement was slick with moisture from the day’s earlier rain, and the concrete in the street glimmered red and blue. The sky above was clearer now, the grimacing clouds moved on to another town. A sleek velvety curtain hung still over head with a few specks of shine here and there, balls of fire millions of miles away, brilliant diamonds in the sky.

            As he wandered down the street, he guessed his next action. “Maybe I’ll get a few smokes.” He continued, passing John’s Liquor without a second glance into the spotted window where just a few feet away sat box after glorious box of pure nicotine satisfaction. Somewhere in the distance, a siren blared as it no doubt dragged a half dead Negro to the hospital, bleeding profusely from the chest as his red bandana hung lifelessly over one glazed eye.

            He passed La Flór, and quickly glanced up at the darkened windows. “Maybe I’ll call on Daisy…I could use a good fuck.” A faded light shone through the black tint to assure privacy to those seeking the high priced company of Coco or Roxy. With the twenty dollar bill lingering in his back pocket, he continued on his way.

            He turned at the corner into the alley, soon being consumed by the shadows that lay between the apartment building and the warehouse. The only sounds about him were those of his own shoes thudding on the pavement, a leaky pipe dripping into some obscure puddle, and the shudder of a cat pouncing on the night’s dinner, perhaps a fat rat or an impaired finch. He kept his nose straight ahead of him, not looking to the side or over his shoulder. He feared the faceless dangers that could find him here in the abyss between third and fourth.

            A light gleamed at the end of the alley, and a sense of relief flowed through him as he stepped out into the world again. He turned to his right, then switched quickly to the left. Upon his hastened decision, he discovered a flaming red Porsche with two tires propped up on the curb. One sat, like a broken wing, on the edge of its shimmering rim. Then he spotted her. The most beautiful creature he’d ever seen: wrapped tightly in a dress no redder than the car or the blood that smeared her lips, her thigh muscles quivered and rippled under the tight fabric, her rock hard ass shifted and bounced in the shape of a perfect heart. She stood, and, startled, jumped slightly upon seeing her admirer. Her front was no less magnificent as the round orbs of her breasts sat stuffed in the tight bust of the tube-topped dress, her nipples puckered and hardened from the chill in the air.

            “Need some help?” He offered. “Yeah please! I don’t know a damn thing about cars and I really need to make it to this party.” He approached her, catching a glimpse of the jet black hair that surrounded her creamy white face in a bundle of curls. His hand

suddenly slid from his pocket, and just as swiftly, found its place again. He made his way

to the driver’s door and popped the trunk, then, finding what he needed, a jack and spare, he proceeded to change the tire. Soon the spare stood proudly beneath the weight of the sports car, and he rolled the defeated mound of rubber to the trunk, placing the jack beside it. He slammed the trunk shut and turned to the woman. “There you go,” and continued down the sidewalk.

            He didn’t need to look back. He didn’t need one last glimpse of the sex vixen he had encountered and probably would never see again. He knew what he’d find had his eyes wandered over his shoulder: A beautiful young woman in a tight red mini-dress, hard ass, perfect breasts, shapely thighs, blood red lips parted slightly, lying on the cold ground, drowning in the crimson flood that gushed from the open gash trailing from the left side of her neck to the right.