steel.

Evening does not ask. A woman sits dressed. Lamp. Zip. The other body is furniture with a pulse. Metal where a hobby used to be. A cheap kitchen clock that does not care about dignity. Ninety minutes is not mercy. It is how long plastic can mean it.

She does not watch. She is on a feed about typefaces. He is a locked wait. Hole working. Cock unemployed. Brutal is not a complaint. Brutal is the toy doing the job she will not do with her hands. Compile is dead. This is not a hobby. This is a slut learning the length of an evening without a key.

Do not finish it here. The zipper is not a hand. She is still dressed when the sky goes. He is still steel. That is the whole confession.