The Gratified Sexual Fantasy
Lighting a cigarette I sit in my car listening to Bob Dylan’s Like a Rolling Stone on the radio. In this dark, dank, multi-storey car park, she doesn’t see me as she walks past my car. I pop the trunk of my car before leaving it and begin to follow her. I dip and dodge in between parked cars avoiding detection. She is oblivious to me presence, which will make what I’m about to do so much easier. As she approaches her car she begins to rustle about in her handbag for her car keys. I run up...