by Cameron Suey

Everything looks seedy in the red light of the brakes. Even the most mundane activities behind a car at night take on a filthy, desperate cast when bathed in crimson. But somehow my wife’s elegance and grace transcends the gloom, even as the spinning klaxon of the police car behind throws overtones of shame and filth on the scene. Even as she thrusts a firm dagger of fingertips into the arresting officer’s throat and leans forward to latch her beautiful lips onto his spurting arteries, she is nothing but beauty and perfection. She drinks deep, and I am in love.


Cameron Suey is a California native living in San Francisco with his wife and daughter, and working as a writer in the games industry. He writes these terrible things because their aren’t enough campfires to gather around, and he can be found on the web at, should you want more of this sort of nonsense. 

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