Whyte City – Samuel Clark


Jordan Vesper toyed with the olive in her martini glass, gazing solemnly into the clear liquid feeling its coolness against her fingertip. Soft piano music played in the background of the café/bar, known as The Violet Hour. Picking up the toothpick laid next to her drink she sensed something and glanced behind her, searching through the smoky hue of the café and its dim light. Nothing out of the ordinary, just the usual sneering looks of disapproval from the patrons at her very presence. Jilted lovers and one-night stands all wanting more and frustrated in not getting any. Jordan pierced the olive with the toothpick slowly, then placed it on her tongue and closed her red lips around it, then sensually pulled out the toothpick between her teeth and chewed the olive. Letting out a heavy sigh, she threw back the drink, the cool sting slipped down her throat.

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