1k

The day before I left Los Angeles I kissed Angels back a thousand times and counted them all out loud. By nine hundred she would have paid me to fuck her.

I always get my best ideas from Angel.

Angel made me cover my eyes when she tip-toed to the bathroom from bed, I never looked but sometimes I did. When she came back that morning she lay down perfectly flat on her stomach with the blanket just below her ass. Her arms were up somewhere around her face, like when you fall asleep on a desk. She wasn’t wearing anything, she wasn’t moving at all. I started to kiss her neck and I don’t know why but I started counting. Every kiss was a number.

One, kiss, two kiss. Three, kiss. I moved all over, shoulders and sides and that small soft part in the middle. I kept saying the numbers out loud and I kept kissing new parts. I felt her body settle into the mattress so I didn’t stop or slow down. I just kept kissing and counting. Somewhere around five hundred and sixty she was arching her back and breathing loud and I was able to get one hand under her. She was small in my arms and I just kept kissing and counting. When I got to one thousand we fucked for a very long time with our mouths touching. After we passed out without saying or doing anything. Angel’s body ran hot in her sleep and it made us stick together under the duvet. At 9:45pm we ordered exactly five bags of potato chips for dinner from a liquor store called Taner’s. 1. Honey Dijon, 2. Dill Pickle, 3. Sour Cream and Onion, 4. Backyard Barbecue, and 5. Farmstead Ranch. LA was still on fire and I was moving to New York in the morning and two weeks later David Lynch would be dead.