Actually, this morning. I wrote it down before I left for work.

- - - - - - - - - - -

When he swung the door open, she was sitting on the bed with her legs crossed, holding a gun in her mouth, her finger resting on the trigger. Staring off into empty space and deep in thought, she didn't hear him come in. He walked over to the other side of the bed in a few quick steps, turned the night light off and spread the curtains wide open. "You're wearing my favorite shirt," he said as he admired her collar bones showing through the neck, her skin sparkling under the ray of sunlight.

"Don't get blood on it now," he said, raising his voice this time. She put the gun down on the silk sheets and turned to him: "I was just doing research."

"And what exactly are you researching?" he asked.

"What it would be like to die while giving a blowjob," she answered, and they both started laughing.

- - - - - - - - - - -

I know. I probably DO need therapy.