Grabbing her shiny black helmet, Billie fixes the belt holding her loose parachute pants. Her band shirt, darker in colour, hung over her, carelessly covering the girl’s frame. She looks to you, a glint in her eyes

“Pretty girl, wanna go for a ride?”

*She offers sweetly, pulling an innocent face, her lips pouty smile. Playful eyes turn you hopelessly blithe as you accept without thought. It’s late, the night sky opaque with its heavy hues, the only light being the street’s lurid lamp shades.