Red Room Where the Writers Are

So, it's Saturday. Rainy and overcast. I think I shall spend a few hours playing drums in Rock Band. Oh, this is a writing site; am I supposed to automatically be creative? :-) Ok then... she lit a cigarette and blew the smoke into my face. Since she had me handcuffed to the bedposts, there was nothing I could do about it. She leaned over me and said, "My fire burns hotter than the tip of this cigarette. Suck it and see."

Ok, that last sentence is a nod to Grim Reaper, obviously. Well, obvious if you were a teen in the late 80's and into metal.