We’re not dating anymore

That never stopped us before

But on the back of the car?

Yes

In the driveway?

Yes

But someone might see us

Exactly

She pursed her lips

And looked down at his nightstand

Two hundred

I don’t have that kind of money

I know

Then why?

If you can’t pay…

But this is art

It’s sex

It’s sex in an artistic medium

VHS is an artistic medium?

Breaking up was becoming a matter

For lawyers

So many details

Compromises & negotiations

Some stranger than others

You can wear the top ok?

I’ll still be naked

You’ll be partially naked

Let me wear the skirt too

Fine but you only get fifty

If he couldn’t have her

He’d have celluloid memories

Play, pause, masturbate

Rewind to the money shot

She knew how to moan

Like a starlet

Like this?

Bent over under sparkling skies

Yes, don’t move

Pavement under her feet

Ready for action?

Camera rolling

He had learned so much from her

She was the experienced traveler

He the novice lover

She was growing bored

He had grown obsessive

Yes

Make it good

This is the last time he’d know her secrets

A last time that would replay forever in his VCR

On many lonely nights

But she’d be gone

Yes, Harder, Yes

A tear rolled down his face

And landed on her back

The intensity was purely psychological

An expression of loss

Give it to me!

His arms gripped around her

She bucked back into him

Her shrieks echoed into the night sky

He shuddered with awe

Cut

The scene ended too quickly

It’s over? She asked surprised

Yes He wept to himself

It’s over

We’re done

From the book Anarchy Bell

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