Saorise Hairshirt Fling

After glancing through the Times, left crumpled by R, over coffee with milk and biscuits with honey, S walked back upstairs.

She planned to put on yesterday's clothes and drive home to work.

She wondered if her and R's fling could be sustained. "Might be nice." she mused.

"Wish he'd smooth out the paper, but his coffee and biscuits are good.

"And he knows how to roll Neruda off his tongue like no one else around."

Once in his room, she decided instead to put on his black wool shirt. It was perhaps a bit flamboyant, and like being saddled with an hairshirt.

But it was cool. The shirt made her warm, and like she was occupying R's skin. She smiled to herself. A little scratchy, but very nice skin.

Copr. 2000

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