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Instead, the heavens opened up and drenched us both. She laughed (and I could see something serious and sad behind it, but not clearly, not yet) when I looked at the sky, surprised and offended. ‘Come on,’ she’d said. ‘I live a block that way. This’ll pass in a couple of hours, we’ll get dry in the meantime.’ A block was more like a mile, I have no idea how she’s timing the storm, and I doubt ‘dry’ will be a word one can use to describe me for any amount of time. I want her so much it lodges in my throat, and it scares me senseless. So of course, here I am. ~*~ She isn’t in the next room I come to, but I can hear her in the one adjoining. I realise it’s a bathroom a split second after I step forward to glance in the door. Unblemished white skin gliding in rich, Reubenesque lines from skull to shoulder, shoulder to ribs and elbows, ribs to hips to knees to ankles, elbows to wrist and hands. Nothing but translucent skin and a faint sheen of rain between those dangerous curves and my. Anne made a long arm and found the remote control for her stereo and turned on some music, it didn't really matter what it was, just something in the background. At some point she got up and brought the bottles in from the kitchen. They talked on, mostly about completely inconsequential things until the wee hours of the morning. Stan noticed that Anne's breathing had become slow and regular and felt his own eyes insisting on drooping.Anne woke up feeling cold. For a moment she wondered where she was, then worked it out - on her sofa, with her man. Stan had fallen asleep with one hand gently curled around a breast, and Anne smiled. But her feet had gone really cold, and she had to move, it was already light outside. She glanced at her watch. 'Six in the morning, that must be early morning twilight, ' she thought.Anne carefully removed Stan's hand from its resting place and twisted and rolled until she was sitting up. She rubbed her calves, got the circulation going again and endured.
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