"...A tribal pattern wrap around starting at the small of my back, and another that just dips in between the cleavage." She put down two sketches of the designs.
     The tattoo artist looked at both of the designs. After a few seconds he looks back to her.
     "Anything else?"
Morrigan pointed both of her index fingers to her chest. "I want both nipples pierced, my lip, with a ring-no post, and my right eyebrow. Let's do the piercing first." Bet these boys love their job when women like me come in.
"I pay good, so I expect good work." She put 10 franklins on the counter. This is going to hurt...

      I woke up Sunday morning like I normally did. Still drunk from the night before. Found the coffee, but the can was empty. Crap. I went back to the living room and fell on to the couch. I'd lay there for two more hours, thinking, mainly about her, but then again about nothing. This was the time when I would feel like giving up. Tired of the struggle. Missing the woman that took my heart, and with the same beautiful smile, stepped on it. I wanted to do something, but I didn't feel physically capable. Try to take a shower... The water came on and I removed my clothes. Could be worse-could be Kevin Spacey's character in 'American Beauty'... Laughter rang out of my empty bathroom. Lather-rinse-repeat. Maybe go get some coffee...

3
Confrontation

     The coffee shop was not a franchise, but it wasn't really a mom and pop shop either. It sat on the corner of Orange Street and Eureka. It was busy at times since it's near one of those multi-screen theatres. Their customers ranged from the smoker to non-smoker to old and young to the norms and the freaks. After all, it was Jazz & Java. Jazz & Java was one of those coffee shops where you can go read the paper and get wired for sound without having to worry about being bothered by other people. They were generous with the refill, as long as you were a respectful customer. They served drinks ranging from Italian Sodas to a few import beers. The turkey bagel melt with your choice of Swiss or Provolone cheese was to die for. The outside patio had nine tables, four with those center umbrellas that had a name of some brand of coffee that was hard to pronounce. Morrigan waited in her car across the street from there.
     This is probably the most I ever went out on a limb, she thought. And it's going to be expensive to remove... But then again, I just might keep it. He is late. Damn, he needs to get here first. She thought he might have changed his mind, or he's dead and she's too late. She shuddered at the thought. A memory teased her until she opened it... Michael... The first. Feels like I do this every time. The guilt, the sadness, the irony! I barely knew who I was and what I could do. I could have done something, to save him... Maybe. Who was I? Jesus Christ? How could I have known? I was selfish and I thought of myself. He died because of me. No, he died because I did not try hard enough! I could have...
                         ...This is my art. This is what I do, and will do from now on.... Rear view mirror. He's here.


     I sat down with a newspaper and a cup of coffee. The sun reflected brightly off the newsprint, and as I adjusted my shades to block out the reflection as a shadow came to rest over the paper.
     "Did you have to give me all your shit as well?" Miri asked. I looked up.
     "You are not supposed to be talking to me remember? Or did you forget about the restraining order? Why don't you just call the cops and get this over with?" I continued, "Remember how you told them you were in fear of your life? The drama you ushered into the courtroom like a mad pit bull? All you had to do is tell me you wanted out, and not drag all this bullshit into the mix."
     "You wouldn't have let me go, Jarod!"
     "I'd protest dammit, cause I love...loved you, but I couldn't hold you against your will. Look, you were gone when I came home right? It could have ended there with a sad dear Jarod letter. But you decided to make it so complicated, that you could barely keep control of it as we speak right? You lied about me. You slandered me to not only the point of denial, but to the point of disgust!  Now, do I have to call the cops for the order violation just to get you away from me? I'll gladly go to jail. Go ahead, tempt me."
     "Girl, come with me, you are making a scene." Slip of the Southern accent. Miri could not protest, since she had no idea who she was. Morrigan had grabbed her by the hand and sat with her at a far table. She's had to intervene like this more than once, and it made her goal that much more difficult. "You want something to drink? Espresso or something?"
     "No thank you. Can I help you with something?"
"Look, I know where you are coming from cause I have seen it before, and girl, it's not pretty. You got the stash so you need to go on. Is he really worth coming up to and starting all that?" She could feel her Southern accent coming out again.
     "Since you know so much about me, why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself? Who are you?" Miri could see how beautiful and straight forward she was, that alone intimidated her, but she still did not know what this stranger wanted. Morrigan glanced to the right and noticed he was gone.


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