Bloody Mary

Jenna hadn’t mastered the art of the pickup yet. Before her death, she had been an introvert, focused on her job and her kids, helping her dad around the shop on weekends. “You’re a beautiful woman,” he would tell her. “You need to get out there, meet yourself a new man.” She would just laugh.

Now it was different. Now every moment of every day was consumed with thoughts of a new man…always a new man. The hunger was overwhelming. She sat at the bar in her red dress, stirring a celery stick around in her drink. A familiar shiver passed down her spine, telling her that someone was watching.

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