Monday, May 3, 2010

Canes Venatici

No one had to tell her not to get into a car with a man she knew nothing about, but this was a van.
     Well, more like a little school bus for grown-ups.
     And in spite of the party, and the fact that her ride had run off, the man she knew nothing about was about to save her the rest of a long and dark walk home, and then . . . who knows?
     “It’s not like that at all,” he said. “It’s my job. To round up girls. For the club.”
     “Of course,” she said, putting on her shoes.

No comments:

Post a Comment

AddThis Widget (for sharing)

Crazy Egg (Analytics)