Image Courtesy of Syed Gilani
“…Send me nudes…” Red mist descended. And then it subsided – possibilities beckoned. In its stead, calculating retribution for this offence, perhaps not given but certainly taken. Last week, my complexion was ‘A-grade crude oil’ to his timeline #LOL – this week, he’s in my DMs looking to get in elsewhere. A screenshot:
a vehicle of privacy compromised; or evidence-gatherer. ‘Receipts’, they call them. I have receipts. ‘To share or not to share,’ an otiose debate I will not entertain.
100 Retweets Later…
“…You didn’t have to do that…” He’s back again, flailing to recover dignity eroded since I tapped *Tweet*. Now, *BLOCKED*.