The Glass Ceiling

The grand plan had only lasted so long. He frantically tried to find someone to blame for the inconsistencies in the material that had ultimately led to the calamitous leak that was now affecting the entire structure. His building, his dream, his potential for fame, now dashed. He stood surrounding by superiors, inwardly horrified and did some fast thinking. With a face of ultimate cool he presented an elegant solution. It was all back on track again.

The Heat Of Her Sweat

He was glad she was home. He had waited patiently for her to return from her daily run, looking forward to the heat from her flushed cheeks with the flavour of sweat still clinging to her body. The ache to crush her into him was at the top of any possible list of anticipatory events today. But she was still doing her stretching and wanted nothing to do with him at the moment. He’d have to wait until tonight.

Black Spider Red

He lived and died by the motif. The design was his, a childhood scribble turned into self-branded logo. It marked all that he had done, this evolution of passion and art governed his lifestyle. To him it signified killer strength and solo tactics. Sadly, once a year, it’s meaning was lost to all.