Back at the motel she invited me to her room for a nightcap. She was an attractive woman without being showy. Tall and athletic looking she had a relaxed directness I found appealing and wondered why her husband had dumped her.
There was no boat and after ascertaining that it was safe to swim out beyond the rocks, Giorghios thanked the fishermen and returned to his friends. They all plunged into the water and swam away, striking out confidently to the rocks and beyond. Hidden from view, they stripped off their clothes and bathing suits and laid them on the rocks.
Paul himself said nothing. He knew, of course, that the fact that he had a life-size marble statue, looking almost like an ancient Greek sculpture, lying on the floor of his workspace in decorative fashion was bound to upset people. It was also obvious, however, that it was difficult for people to take their eyes off of the figure. He had had a group of friends over one night – well, acquaintances, really – and the situation had been almost surreal. Everyone’s eyes kept wandering back to the composition of exquisitely feminine limbs…
Apart from the two dentists and the patients she didn’t meet many men, and it was hard to find someone attractive when you knew about their gum disease and congenital halitosis. She had friends from school whom she kept up with, and occasionally went to the pictures with a lad, a brother of a friend, but on the whole her life trotted along fairly efficiently without a boyfriend.
I was working in a bar in Deadwood one summer. The town is pretty much given over to tourism being the place where Wild Bill Hickok was shot dead. It was early in the season and a slow period of the afternoon. There was a tall, well-made guy at the bar who’d been quietly nursing a beer but who was clearly sociably inclined.
Head hanging, Rana struggled to breath through a choking tide of scent. Jasmine, sandalwood, cedar, rosewater, swirled in the humid air, wrapping around his throat like fingers. One side of the bar was crowed with a chattering flock of exotic birds. Light refracted from jewelled throats, fingerings stabbing his retina. Weddings were almost unheard of at the hotel, stuck as it was on an industrial swathe of the Clyde riverbank. The current honour was due to Mr Bhatia, the bride’s second-cousin. She was marrying a surgeon from a very good family. There would be several medical professionals in attendance, some bankers, and an Uncle who owned a furniture emporium.
Dear Mr and Mrs Landlord I spotted your advert in Country Life and my lady wife has urged me to get a wriggle on and throw our hats in the ring to bag this plum of a rental. We are very eager to arrange a viewing at your charming sounding house with its position on the ring road and handy access to Middlesbrough Junction. And it is even more exciting that our potential new landlords (aka your lovely selves!) would be living right next door, so we are keen to make a good impression!
I had been looking for a lover for over a year. It was harder to find one than I expected. It probably had something to do with me having a boyfriend, Dirk, who I lived with and couldn’t imagine leaving. I didn’t want to leave; I was in love with him. But I was jealous. And I needed more sex, more than twice a week especially since I didn’t feel satisfied after we had sex. It ended too fast.
The Sheriff of Lincoln County and I happened to be in the Wortley Hotel Lincoln NM at the same time. He came into the breakfast room shortly after me. A big man, well into his 60s I guessed, but he moved lightly. He pulled up a chair at the table next to mine. ‘Howdy’ he said. ‘What brings you to Lincoln?’ I told him my business was antiques and art works and gave him my card to prove it. Rural county sheriffs like to know who’s around. He ordered steak and eggs. Some small talk was made.
The large yellow and black tiered box is rimed with dust. Ruth wipes a finger along its ridged top and sniffs the grey residue of dead skin, cobwebs and time. All it evokes is a sneeze. Getting herself a tissue, she grabs a wet cloth from the top of the kitchen sink and sets-to cleaning the outside of the layered toolbox. She wishes to erase the grime, and to polish and polish till it shines like – like what? A plastic container can’t shine, of course, but it can be cleansed and freed from the memories it might retain. She scrubs hard.