We kissed under the guillotine,hoping for something lean, and Nyx watching the unionof our two lips lying, jealously– “Our excuse makes a solid ground,”she said, tearing at her nylon grey. “The ground?”  I replied,“We ought to just die and call it a day.” We skipped along like hooligans, knowing something the rest of the world did not, saying“ancips” and other Latin words that rot. I thought. She smiled,not knowing geometry. “But … Continue reading Affair by Michael T. Smith