It would demand attention again. She did this to him. He had not fucked her tonight. Arturo had decided early that day that he would not. He told her ...hat he would not. He needed to write. He needed for her to give him that. If he fucked her, he knew that he would be good for nothing for the rest of the night. Once would not be enough. He thought that he could somehow control the magic his muse gifted him with by exercising more self-control. His Jess had sounded hurt when he had first informed. One day, a letter came addressed in a shaky handwriting to God with no actual address. He thought he should open it to see what it was about.The letter read:Dear God,I am an 83 year old widow, living on a very small pension.Yesterday someone stole my purse. It had $100 in it, which was all the money I had until my next pension payment. Next Sunday is Christmas, and I had invited two of my friends over for dinner. Without that money, I have nothing to buy food with, have no family to turn to,. More

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