Liberty's Sparkle (63)

   
   "Liberty's Sparkle (63)"
    
   Liberty got bold.  Used that look of a blonde angel, piloting the hybrid with four cylinder fury, hoping it didn't burn out the batteries and all; regardless, she wanted to see Bobby Rook.  The twosome had exchanged phone numbers, and after a series of text messages, he offered his address, very nearby--in a trailer park as well--she figured:  white trash neighbors.
   Still, his poverty and illness didn't matter; she was drawn to him as an altruistic fairy to the blue power of the furious flame.  Thus, she passed by barking dogs, and dudes that looked like Larry the Cable Guy drinking Bud Heavy; next, parked in front of Bobby Rook's trailer, Old Glory's fabric hanging in his window, making him seem all the more cheap yet armed with a patriotic spirit.
   Checking her makeup in the rear-view mirror, just lip gloss really, hair pulled back in a lime-green ponytail holder, and a windbreaker of white to match her faded jeans and neon curious sneakers, she then marched to his door, knocked, heard a vociferous statement to enter, and did so, seeing a modest habitat meticulously clean, no dust bunnies or clutter, yet what caught her eye the best, besides the mysteriously attractive Bobby Rook sitting in a cherry wood chair, rubbing his lean hand over the stubble of his buzz cut, well, it was the noose--the freaking noose dangling downwards, painting an astonished look upon her angelic countenance.
   Rook got the telepathic message, responding:  "It's just in case of an emergency--if things get real nasty for me, like disease."
   Liberty focused, got cool, became the Iceman, letting it slide right off; next, blurted:  "Rook, we gotta talk brother!"