She nicknamed herself “Pawn” like a pawn shop because good and stable men walked right by her without remarking her presence, while desperate men trying to laugh off their troubles in a desperation that covered them like a worn coat never failed to loiter before her and window shop like poor orphans on Christmas.
He was cursed with the unfortunate ability of seeing only a woman’s fragility and an urge to exploit that, because every woman without exception has a delicate, finely blown glass core. When he looked at a girl, he knew instinctively where she was breakable and where she was broken.
They were meant to be together like an Angel and the fall.
The photos are of a kickin’ rock band called Flying Pooh, i saw a couple weeks ago. They are in no way related to the text.