The love of my life—let's call her Alice—is a liar. She tells me she loves me and only me. She doesn't just say it, she sings it, she bellows it, filling the room with these lies like smoke from a spent cigarette.
"There is nobody else in the world for me. Nobody else," she coos. She is a liar.
Read more of Mr. Smith's hard-hitting, uncompromising The Sweetest Kind of Chaos.Next in BEAT to a PULP: "Icarus of the Cliffs" by Katherine A. Russell
Soon: Anthony Neil Smith's "The King of Mardi Gras"