Valentine

She didn't look evil. She looked sorta sexy. But she was. Evil, I mean. She lured men into her trap and didn't let go until something died. Be it their soul or their marriage or their self respect. She was deadly in that way.

She sat at the bar at Ninth and Third and she waited. A vulnerable look that she had practiced for years. It would always lure someone. Tonight she lured him.

He was out for his bachelor party and it was late. Long after the strippers left the private party room up the road and the night was winding down. He was surprising sober having drank himself straight. When he saw her, he became another kind of drunk altogether. Her shirt was hanging off her shoulder leaving it bare. Her mascara was thick and black and her honey hair was tangled.

As he walked in and spotted her, he made a beeline straight toward her and though his drunken buddies tried to hold him back, their drunken fingers barely grazed him.

He approached and squeezed in between her and the bar. Impulsively, he pulled her head toward his mouth and kissed her hungrily. It wasn't long before they left together.

The next morning the church bells rang and he was nowhere near them. He was still at the hotel room downtown. Sick and stupid with guilt. Knowing her could never keep his promise now even though the temptress was long gone. The game was over and he had lost.