Cruising on Cloud Nine by rayanda


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by Rayanda

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters and events portrayed in this work are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. CRUISING ON CLOUD NINE. Copyright © 2009 by Rayanda Arts. First electronic edition: November 16, 2009. Protected by a Creative Commons 2.5 license: You are free to share and distribute this work for noncommercial purposes provided you retain attribution to Rayanda Arts and make no derivative works. This notice of copyright must be retained on any electronic or printed copies.

Cruising on Cloud Nine

A silver limousine rolls past garbage bins to the hidden portals of Cloud Nine. A sleek blond shimmers out. She takes long, languid steps around bits of people's lives strewn about like discarded thoughts in an alley where light is not welcome. A Godzilla guard punches the air to amuse himself. He's seen her so many times he notices her puffy eye as she slinks by without paying him any mind. She earns an approving look from a peeper watching her through a slit in the door.

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Inside, the bare walls melt into flesh not exactly the color of hell but thunderous and incessant enough to keep desires seething the place sizzling the money flowing through any dream vice can buy, like professional lovers with overpriced wiles and nothing smiles peddling easy virtue. She slithers into step with the racket that seduces her ears into hearing nothing at all, and feeling even less in a dance with no beginning only ending after ending as she changes partners faster than the music throbbing beneath her dress. Dealer, dealing, deal! 3 of 6 Cruising on Cloud Nine

She peers through the haze for nasty narcs and vice, the bottom feeders in a sea of hustlers. They're up to other tricks tonight. A dude named john flashes what he has, exposing what he hasn't. She veers out of his reach to cozy up to the man with the right stuff to dust Cloud Nine with angels. She rushes to a standstill. Momentarily. Her time isn't her own, she's a working girl, a specialist in a cheater's lost paradise.

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Another cheap trick rubs her the right way. “You want what?! I—Ekkkkkkk!” She spies a rod, a real piece. What she couldn't do with a shooter that size. Pop! And pretty sparkles, a hunk falls back dead against her trick, sending her living to hell and killing a perfectly good night.

With the big big blue sniffing and poking around she can't get on with her job satisfying men who can't be satisfied by any woman who isn't one of the guys underneath it all. They come and come then go in the dark. 5 of 6 Cruising on Cloud Nine

She avoids the sun, the detestable thing plays tricks on her eyes, making her look like hell, and casts shadows on her worth, but the darkness she craves follows the sun and tomorrow is another night.


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