Ongoing sporadic journal of the overeducated, and underemployed. The title derived from Coupland’s description of cubicle land; the corporate ghetto. Random photos and thoughts. Left the ghetto, never happier. This still a work in progress

13 December 2016

wWash Away the skank
“At least wash the skank away before you get in bed” She accuses.
“I played at Gildersleeves” I answer. I stripped in the hall my jacket and boots soaked melting snow. I walk into the shower letting the jets coat me in warmth. I hear her, “There’s a bird in every pub when you’re trying to come ‘ome right mate” she mocks my accent. outside the shower curtain, I wait to watch in the fogged mirror. “Everybody knows’ how do you think I feel?” at that moment she turns her back
. I throw the shower curtain left her and bring her in the shower she protest’s  “ She’s  dressed  for bed so  I strip   off her T and panties, now we’re both starkers’ no secrets nothing to hide, “I fucking don’t care what everybody KNOWS, this what MATTERS HEAT, PASSION, LOVE. I come here because it’s HOME you’re ME  HOME
    “ I’ll wash away that SKANK she says wrapping her legs around me pulling me her pumping hips against me roughly. Screaming You forget them!” as we slide down into the huge tub kissing under the warm rain of the shower. The warm rain cleans off her angry and hurts as she moans, then screams. I get out kissing her shutting the tap. I grab a towel wrap her in it, and carry her to bed she looks tired, soft I kiss her and slide in next to her. She starts to say something I kiss her she closes her eyes and drifts to sleep the skank is gone.

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