Imogene redux

Imogene leaned casually against a chain-link fence in the worst part of town. (Crackheads sidewalkpacing. Needles strewn block to block. Gargoyled mouths hissing shitfuckcunts into street ether. Peepshow emporiums flashing neon, backlit plastic, heavy breasts and tumbling tresses.) Imogene leaned and smoked a cherry-flavored cigarillo. She watched curls of smoke rise and blend into the hazy twilight. Bedecked in leopard-print and heels – but she was no whore. Imogene had a foot and a half of bonedense antlers rising from her head, and it’d been a hard life. Men with weird fetishes propositioned her. Other women berated her. Children ran from her. Eventually though, she’d found her niche, grown into her own. Now she didn’t give a fuck.

~ by kingzoko on April 14, 2014.

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