A Certain Hunger

by Chelsea G. Summers

Later, though not much later, I’d explore the inside of this young man’s mouth with my tongue and my fingers; it would taste of bourbon and ennui. His mouth would explore the lemon and salt of my pussy; it would taste of multiple orgasms and poor judgment.

It’s such an intimate thing, to witness another’s death.

Choices must be made. In life as in writing, you kill your darlings.