I start at f and end at d

This is my smug, "I will never have to read this stupid
book ever again" face. One History exam down.

I'm submitting short things to internet places and editing
work for the Keele Writing Magazine. Ho hum.

From Corrections:

I read. I absorb everything from the bar to the breakfast kebabs.
My eyes trace the burgundy lips of Shelly and the curve of Kelly’s arse.
I picture him in his new leather jacket, the description of which appears
above a brief thanks! for the money I sent him to cover his rent. I read
everything and find it distasteful. His graduation photo hangs in my
hallway; he could have been a lawyer, a historian, even a writer. I have
been biting my tongue and my mouth fills with the tang of copper coins.
Distasteful. I take out a chunky white marker from the desk drawer and
hold it over his filthy words. Poised.