”“Next time,” I say waving the waiter over.She laughs, “Right. Next time.” She knows, just like I do, there is no chance of a ‘next time.�...�We get outside and she heads over to the bus stop. I check my watch; it’s 2:15am. Yeah, I’m a prick; sure, I’m gonna let her wait for a bus at this hour.I start to call out to her then realize I have no clue what her name is. I walk over. “Hey, uh, what is your name, anyway?”“Franc?” She says with that tone like she answered that a couple times. ” Starlet came to the rescue.For the rest of the car ride, Starlet stroked Vixen's arm reassuringly. After what felt like an eternity, Herbert drove into a back street, parked the car and killed the engine. Looking out the window, Vixen could make out a dark alleyway. Truth be told, she was no stranger to this smelly taint of the city’s underbelly.When she first moved there a few years ago, she lived in a shabby apartment complex only five minutes away. One humid midsummer’s eve, she found. More

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