
Every man has that one unforgettable woman that will haunt him until his final day; the girl that got away. Allie detested television, vanilla ice cream, and missionary. She explored the depths of her sexuality; while I discovered the heights of my pain. My muse had a nickname. I called her Devil Girl. I write these words to ease my sorrows. My name is Andrew.
This is our story.
weeks after the Pandora episode
I found a message upon my desk
the card contained her sweet scent
her note mentioned a time and place
it contained simple instructions
watch, follow, you don’t know me
I don’t know you
the rules seemed simple enough
hours later I stood in the crowded train station
she was nowhere to be found
a slight parting of the mob
revealed my darling angel
my heart jack hammered against my ribs
she wore a sheer white blouse
that revealed her bra silhouette
a short beige skater skirt
beige high heels that looked well standing up
and just as sweet in the air
reaching for the stars
knowing Allie, panties were optional
the men around her stole discreet glances
what a silly game she played
a subway slowly pulled into the station
bringing a slight breeze with it
my throat went desert dry
her fluttering skirt defied gravity
revealing her perverted plans and more
what are you doing Devil Girl
To be continued next Saturday
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