That was the thing about Candy; she carried a fine leather satchel. Wait…it was actually—a shoulder bag, that’s it. Okay, so satchel wasn’t th... word. Fucking forgive my lack of accurate description when I’ve got pussy and God on my mind. So, a fine leather shoulder bag. And it opened at the top. Tugging on its strings pulled the top closed. Only, it wasn’t closed now. I could see something sharp and shiny in there. It looked like a blade. A stiletto.I had worked on some good films in my time.. Did you make breakfast? she asked. Yes, I did. Come, he said. Rubbing her eyes, Claire followed him into the kitchen where the breakfast bar was laid out with orange juice, chocolate chip pancakes, fruit and bacon. Mm! she exclaimed. They sat down to eat, chatting casually about the weather and listening to the news when Marc turned on the radio. Dont you have a TV? she asked him curiously. Yes, I do, but I almost never use it. I prefer music to senseless noise. And one can read the news from a. More

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