All The Fallen ~*~ Chapter 21 ~*~* Should Be

            Dana insisted on taking the Subaru, leaving it to Tonya to open her own door, and hoist herself up into the passenger’s seat,no small feat, considering the tightness of the sheath skirt she’d chosen for the evening.  “Honey, are you sure you,.”  Dana’s glare silenced her. 

            She blinked and turned her head.  She didn’t understand any of this.  With the vortex gone, everything should be fine between them.  But nothing was fine.  Everything had turned to shit, in fact.  The silence between them was sullen, thick and impenetrable.  Dana had nothing to say, turning away to lift weights or watch mindless TV in which she held no interest, or to leaf morosely through the magazines that featured the last of her ads. 

            She seemed to have retreated behind some barbed barricade, prickling and pulling away at the slightest touch, warning Tonya off with eyes that darkened and threatened wordlessly.  Tonya looked down at her hands, looking small and helpless against the black skirt as Dana backed out of the drive, turned on the lights and slipped a CD into the stereo before driving away.

            Neither of them noticed the car parked a few houses up, out of place in its oldness and rusting exterior.  The driver sat up behind the wheel, waited a few moments before starting noisily, and pulling away from the curb, following with lights off from a safe distance away.

*~*~*~*~*

            Jenny was almost childlike in her excitement, leafing through her dresses in the closet, pulling out first one, then another, for Marina’s inspection.  Pursed lips or a slight headshake vetoed her first few choices, then a broad smile made the selection easy for her…  black and backless with a halter-top bodice and high-cut side slit that yielded so easily to Marina’s fingers whenever she wore it.

            Marina was wearing the Versace, an electric cyan blue dress with a skirt flounce high cut over her left thigh, a neckline down to there, a bodice that looked like a small piece of fabric barely enough to twist and fold around her breasts, and the thinnest of spaghetti straps that could surrender at the slightest touch.