You don't see much fiction on Hooksexup's homepage these days, so we've decided to add a new feature here at Scanner: Friday Fiction. Send us your best, as long as it's a little dirty.
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South
by Sarah M. Green
The Southern drawl seemed inauspicious, as did his hands—small, white, and flawless, resting on the dark wooden bar like the hands of a china doll. He is from Alabama, and when his number goes into her phone, it goes in as “Michael Alabama.” Michael Alabama’s eyes are small and pale, but chiseled like quartz, glinting in the waltzing light. His smile, though he looks 13 when he offers it, is broad. She agrees to give him a chance, gallantly turning a blind eye to his battered, baggy jeans, and steels herself for more hallmarks of a country boy: Gummy kisses; early declarations of love; offers to meet his parents....
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