her favorite part—one of her favorite parts—is landing on his bedroom floor in a crouch, the window on the night still open behind her.
developing this character might be her greatest achievement yet.
she’s reached this weird stage in life where breaking into a man’s home is her new form of courtship.
it’s difficult to say exactly how she found herself here. something about someone asking her what she really wanted from her life led to this.
no. first it led to a state of forced isolation. almost like trying to dispel any threat of the ordinary by disavowing contact with it.
exiling all those with no imagination, no cunning, no wit, no sense of physical prowess, domination.
until he found her. or she found him.
as if she were pressed against a wall in a dark alley and an inner voice told her, “wait for it… wait for it… wait for it… ” and she listened, more patiently that usual. until finally the voice said, “now!”
then she pounced.