Semi-Daily Scribbles

Marti needed a boost. An infusion. A lift of the spirits only a one-way ticket out of Concrete could provide. At some point over the last seven years, Marti realized her life transformed into a series of false starts and messy endings. She'd let go of the reins as she grabbed at one brass ring after another, and the horse Marti rode took control. The stubborn nag went wherever she pleased, which more often than not was the nearest watering hole. To make matters worse, Marti's charms migrated in a southerly direction. She no longer counted on firmness and curves to improve her odds. Even Marti's shapely legs turned thick and laced with veins. Marti drifted further and further away from the winner's circle. She needed a transfusion. An excision. Laser salvation and plastic relief. Confidence was all Marti needed to get back on top. She knew youth had bolted and left her standing at the gate, but money could keep her in the running with all the fresh and ready competition.