Morningside Begs And Achin

Johannes runs a hand through his kinky hair, staring blearily at the crooked and scuffed mirror, the motel room already almost unbearably hot.

Stomach rumbling, he pulls on a pair of tired Levi's over his boxers.
He watches Sierra's chest rise and fall a moment, desiring to kiss her.

He lights a cigarette. Slipping a shirt on, he winces.
Fading bruises litter his sinewy flesh.
Leans against the doorway smoking, staring hazily at the sundrenched world.

With a longing glance back at the exquisite sleeping Sierra.
Closes the motel room door.

Johannes walks to the motel diner and orders breakfast.