Aphrodite The TV was showing somewhere being bombed. At the next table sat a man and a blonde. Drinking his beer and eating his burger, he was trying not to think about the murder. The sign on the roadside was glowing bright. The arrow on one side had a pulsating light. Two guys on bikes were sitting below. One asked the other to throw him some dough. She knew the pads where they cut the dust. She watched it go down when there was a bust. She’s the Aphrodite of LA’s back streets. She was known as the goddess of white satin sheets. There was nothing to do but sit by the pool. He put on his jacket, the air was growing cool. The water in the dark glowed turquoise green. Across the surface swam a bikini-clad teen. He wondered, as he watched her do a few laps, if the motel bar carried Rumple Minze schnapps. As she put on a robe and walked away, he checked his pockets for some money to pay. She knew the pads where they cut the dust. She watched it go down when there was a bust. She’s the Aphrodite of LA’s back streets. She was known as the goddess of white satin sheets. He had nothing but dreams where dead souls creep. He needed the strong drink to get a good sleep. It was his prints on the handle and the blade. It was his blood they found on the bedside shade. He kept the blinds closed to keep out the sun. His fate would have been sealed if he tried to run. A knock on the door filled him with gloom. Two men with badges entered the room. She knew the pads where they cut the dust. She watched it go down when there was a bust. She’s the Aphrodite of LA’s back streets. She was known as the goddess of white satin sheets.
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