"He swung the limo into a smooth U turn and pulled up next to
her. I rolled down the window. The air was cool. It smelled of salt, garbage, and stale car exhaust.
    She leaned down and rested her elbows on the door. Her lips
formed a predatory smile. The front of her black silk tank-top fell
away from her breasts. A lacy, black, pushup bra bound them tightly. Up close, her hair was a confusion of color. Glints of gold and
darker, muddy blond contrasting highlights, streaks of frosted silver among the gold and, close to her skull, where the untainted roots exposed the true color, black.
    “Like what you see?” She licked her lips and turned away to spit
out her gum.
    “I suppose so. Get in.”

Robert King   

Gone To See the Gypsy