Creep & Cockroach

That day. On the bus. Back from the hospital when Boulanger had his heart attack. Nadia saw the back of someone she knew. She wasn’t sure. But could it have been Greg? She had been with him for years – she knew how he walked.

That same walk of a stocky man at the circus. Didn't see his face.

That message two years ago: “I miss you…”

Nadia never responded. Ghosted him. He felt hollow and fake. After spending time working in the sex industry, she knew the true nature of men. The creepiness. Greg was a class-A creep. Wanted her to cheat. Cuck him. He stalked her. Took photos of her friends. Rolling around like a pig in his filthy cheating obsessions.

But Nadia wasn’t clean. Not a dove anymore. A Parisian pigeon. She had fucked so much this year. So much dick. Stretching her pussy. Cumming into her. Pumped. Jizzed. On her face. On her tits. She didn’t care if they were creeps or assholes. They were hot. And they made her feel good.

She ghosted most of them afterwards.

Xiao Mei noticed Nadia lost in thought, “Girl… You okay? You have the PTSD face again...”

“I’m fine…” Nadia snapped out of it. Smiling creased. PTSD? You have no idea...

The next act was a gross dance number. Fifty filthy cockroach costumed dancers. They twirled and shook their rumps in sync. Music that tickled your ribs. A good pumpy drum line. Then a Queen praying mantis rose in the center. 10 feet tall. Hooked legs. Bug-eyed.

It reminded Nadia of Frankie. The sick spluttering entomologist. She would have liked something like this. Then the acrobatics began. Diving from the ceiling. Moth-winged. Brilliant and beautiful. Gliding through the air. Not a rope in sight.

“Woah!” Xiao Mei smiled.