Buck and a Quarter

by Boudreau Freret

"Sometimes I write things for money," I threw into the ether, "so ask me- I might."

"I have $1.25, some lint, and three Tic Tacs," came the reply, "what can I get for that?"

"For a buck and a quarter, just tell me what you want," I said, "and I'll do it." Then I thought better, and added, "under a thousand words."

"Surprise me... just whatever ya say make sure my ass looks great."

Element one.

"How do you want this," I asked, "do you FaceBook?"

"FaceBook makes me angry." Element two. "Email it to jimmychoo@#####.###." Element three.

This is what her buck and a quarter bought:

"God, your ass looks phenomenal in those shoes," he said, snapping picture after picture as she teased for the lens. And him. "Phe. Nom. En. Al. You are a phenomenon unto yourself." Click click click.

She wore only her 4.3" Jimmy Choo Lovelys and a smile.

"I know," she said. "But if any of these pictures show up on FaceBook," she paused, taking him into her hand and squeezing as she finished the thought, "I'm going to kill you."