She Woke Up Pretty
Friday, December 10th, 2021 -- by Bacchus
Yes, she woke up looking mighty fine. But now, sadly, the wench is dead.
Or at least, that’s the title of the story she’s in. This artwork (there’s an artist signature lower right, but I can’t make it out) was the front illustration for The Wench Is Dead, a story by Fredrick Brown in the July 1953 issue of Manhunt: Detective Story Monthly:
She sat up in bed and stretched, the covers falling away from her naked body. Beautiful breasts she had, size and shape of half grapefruits and firm. Nice arms and shoulders, and a lovely face. Hair black and sleek in a page-boy bob that fell into place as she shook her head. Twenty-five, she told me once; and I believed her, but she could have passed for several years less than that, even now without make up and her eyes still a little puffy from sleep. Certainly it didn’t show that she’d spent three years as a B-girl, part-time hustler, heavy drinker.
…
“About that drink,” I said.
She laughed and threw down the covers, got out of bed and walked past me naked to the closet to get a robe. I wanted to reach for her but I didn’t; I’d learned by now that Billie was never amorous early in the morning and resented any passes made before noon…
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