She stayed like that, hands cupped around the stump of the shaft, until the raider came back from the other room. He came out with some long strips of cloth bandages. He tossed them at her and they landed on her outstretched legs. Then he walked towards the door."Hey!” Ashley called weakly, "Are you just going to leave me like this?"He stopped and turned towards her. She shrugged as if to say, "Well?"The young man hesitated, looking furtively to the door, then to her. Then he turned around and went back into the other room to get two goose quills, which he split with a knife. Dragging her by the feet so that she lay flat on the floor, he knelt beside her and looked briefly into her eyes. Without warning, he plunged the quills and his fingers into her wound. Ashley moaned sensually and writhed as he explored the hole. He kept working, searching for the arrowhead. When he found it, he slid the quills around the sharp edges of the point and gingerly slipped it out. Ashley. I was no longer in the mood to deal with him.I debated calling it a night until a cute guy took a seat three barstools down. After finishing his beer he looked over to me, the only company sitting at the bar. “Mondays suck.” “Sounds like someone has a case of the Mondays,” I returned. I had remembered that line from some stupid movie by ex-boyfriend watched all the time.“I love that movie!” He shouted. The ice was broken that easily. He moved himself to the stool next to mine. He was white and stood about five feet nine inches tall. He had dark brown hair and was skinny. His navy blue Penn State shirt hung loosely on him. He couldn’t have been more than one hundred sixty-five pounds. He smelled good, like fresh soap and expensive shampoo. We shared a few drinks and some shots. He was friendly and good with conversation. His hand found a resting place on my thigh two or three times and I made no effort to remove it. This dog was in heat and looking for a mate. “Let’s go.
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