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His idea of beauty was a red head, eleven shots of bourbon, and six lime wedges.
He was drunk and she was too.
They fell into bed after, giggling about this and that.
He slept fitfully, stealing the covers.
He awoke in the night, wondering what a terrible mistake he was making.
He got out of bed; he tucked her in.
3am he left, worrying about the morning.


The next night he was at the bar again.
Another prompt, the longest.
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October 22, 2012
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