Methamphestrogen
Methamphestrogen by Bailey Thayer I could see my neighbor's clothesline clearly from my second-floor bathroom window. It was Saturday, laundry day, and my neighbor's live-in girl friend was just starting to hang up wet clothes to dry. There she stood, barefoot, wearing a set of daisy-dukes and a white cut-off tank top. I could see the outline of a purple bra under her shirt. A bra strap hung lazily off her left shoulder, and when she bent over to retrieve something from her laundry...