Red on red on red; hot in the sun, hotter in the shade.
Enjoy..
*****
"I hate her," Dorothy Stitwell thought bitterly as she spread her crimson red ULD STORM blanket out on the lush grass.
"You don't hate her," the petite red head thought, flinging her thigh length limp red hair back.
"Fine. I hate HIM," Dorothy amended, watching as the four musicians tuned their instruments.
"Yes, we hate Billy Begnaud; God damned Billy Beg... Then why are we still crying over him?" Dorothy asked, big green eyes filling with tears as she thought of her former boyfriend.
"Should have gone on to Walchester," Dorothy thought forlornly as the early August sun beat down upon her. "Bet it wouldn't be this damned hot in Commonstead; GOD! Is Louisiana always so unbelievably hot?"
"Oh well, just get throug
