Muscle Man


"Let me ask you a question?"

 

He never waited for a reply, just asked, and then without a pause answered his own query. It was the verbal equivalent of a toddler tugging at your sleeve.

 

He paused to examine the hood of the muscle car he was buffing, checking whether the sheen was even. The deep rumbling throttle sounded a little like his raspy chortle, carnal and immediate.

 





About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)