First and Last Regret

Audacia leaned towards me. A full-back tattoo peeked around her rib cage and her nipple rings flashed in the sunrise.

“I woke up,” she said, “with the prettiest boy this morning. I would have slept with my wifey, but I could tell she and the boy she was with were connecting. We didn’t ‘do’ anything … I think.”

She laughed and tilted her head back for a pull off a bottle of sake. She was pure silky athleticism, from her almond eyes -– she’s a blonde but her mother is half Japanese -– past her broad shoulders and her naked torso to her hips still wrapped in a black and red tutu. In real life she’s a contortionist in a small circus based in Seattle; and in that one instant, with her throat exposed and her lips to the sky, I had a single regret. This regret I would have but once, and never again, for the playa taketh, and the playa giveth, and what it gave me was an unexpected freedom:

Sorry, boys and girls, but my camera bit the dust and bit it hard. I took no pictures.

Note:  In all accounts, both playa names and real names have been changed.