AYESHA KIYANI

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on August 27, 2020

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The scream just added to Bart's confusion as his silver BMW coupe sputtered to a stop at the curb of a busy boulevard lined by some of the city's most notorious motels. The gauge was pegged at "E." Paula was angry, but Bart was mostly bewildered. He was certain there had been a quarter tank, at least, when they parked two hours earlier, just five blocks back. A man who drives a new silver Beemer can afford better than a $20-an-hour love nest out along "The Strip." So for all three of their weekly trysts so far, Bart took Paula out past these re-purposed former Holiday Inns and Howard Johnsons, to where the thoroughfare turns nice and sweeps up a small rise. Behind a bolted door at the upscale Summit Inn, they were no longer Bart, an unmarried team leader at a downtown accounting firm, and Paula, the very-married administrative assistant on his crew. They became two 30-something teenagers, fucking their brains out for fun. It was a minor concern that their...

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