Rent

by Elizabeth Rose Murray

His flat hand made contact with her cheek, like a storm driven wave slapping against the wood of a moored coracle. Her lips tightened into plumped up pods, and her jaw inched forward just slightly, making her moon face gently regal. His eyes groped the floor, wondering where the fuck that had come from and how he would be able to anchor her in his arms and make her understand how much she filled him. Her cocoa-colored lips split open for an instance, then closed firmly again, wrapped fat and full around the silence. He couldn't raise his eyes. The door's click resounded like his hand against her face as he shut it firmly behind him.

6S

Elizabeth Rose Murray, author of In the Light of Marci, has a weekly haiku slot on Dogmatika, plus stories on Savage Manners and 3am, and poetry on The Beat. She writes about poker and casino for a living in the south of Spain. Her ultimate ambition is to swim with great white sharks and write a published novel.