Toxic Games (Short Story)

The August heat had willed Joshua to tie his hair into a poorly structured man-bun, willed his fair face to be laced with sweat, willed his fairly slim build to be dressed in a white tank top and knee-length cargo. While Genet’s shoulder-length hair retained its curls, her bronze face shined, and her favorite summer dress, blue and white with slits on the sides, complemented her long legs. 

The couple were seating on a dusty bench, waiting for the bus that would take them home, dubiously, across from the Dollar store where Joshua had stolen a bag of blue marbles. 

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