Zebra knows a little something about shame. This morning, she was home alone and so she had a bit of an iPod rave in the kitchen. (Because there is no better way of waking up and getting the blood pumping etc.) And then she turned around the see the landlord and a builder peering at her through the kitchen door. #ForShame
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Kirsty’s favourite kind of party was a fancy-dress party. She loved visiting costume shops and viewing the myriad of colours and possibilities. The ballerina outfit was the best she’d ever found, and she’d waited for the perfect occasion to wear it.
It had been such a success, her friends sighed with envy and when she caught his eye from across the room, it was like all those songs she heard on the radio. Their glances lingered like cigarette smoke, blurred by vodka shots. There’d been suggestion, then action.
Walking home in the morning was far less romantic.