Staring Stories

It was a quiet night; the gentle hum of the air conditioning pervaded my senses as I sat in the foyer of the Grand Hotel.  Few people passed me by but there was one consolation. There was a woman sitting by the bar. Her long dark hair seemed to flow around her face and shoulders.  One side fell elegantly across her breast. Her fingers played with her Gin Martini in a way that was pornographic and she sat precariously on t...