Things Slip Through
Along his back, a spinal ridge glowed a shifting kaleidoscope of colors.
Bob grinned, flashing rows of teeth. “Lookin’ good, Carolyn. Betcha kick Michelle Kwan’s ass any day.”
She scowled. “Piss off, Bob.”
Bob spread his hands. “Aw, come on. Don’ be mad. The spell worked, didn’ it? Got what ya wanted, a big ole’ wet one, right on the lips!” A leer stretched his rubbery face. “Didja get any tongue?”
“Bob!” She kicked the ice. “Not cool!”
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