Her name was to be Rita.
She was to be my stalwart and constant companion.
Ah the places we would go.
The things we would do!*
And how I would love her...
The way I would run my fingers across her torso, lovingly...
And then she slipped out of my grasp.
Just like that.
And my dreams slid to the ground.
(Damn you, Rita, and your brazen hussy ways! Hope you get the alcoholic/ Parkinson shakes, and throw that unspecified other!)
Folks, meet Rita,
Rita, meet the folks.**
** Hi mum, yes, she's a motorbike. Yes, I got my licence. Please please please don't disown me? (I love you).
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