Sonya had a thing for bad boys. To her there was something beautiful and sad about their tough facades. Their long silences. The way they pulled away when she leaned in. She wanted to save them – from themselves, from women who didn’t understand them, from the world that had been so careless with their delicate hearts.
Her friends didn’t understand the attraction. Couldn’t see what was so obvious to Sonya. They’d hated poor Harry. Been awful to Luke.
Still, as her head bounced again against the spare tire in his trunk, she had to admit they’d been right about Leonard.
WineDrunk SideWalk: Shipwrecked in TrumpLand wants your poems, fiction, art, photographs etc...anything relating to what is going on in the country since 01.20.17. go from the personal to the universal...previously published work welcome SUBMIT2RESIST firstname.lastname@example.org