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She’d want to be here to watch you trip over your own feet rather than??Both of us let our sentences dissolve like unfinished equations and Emily began to clear the plates away. I stared at the buttered toast and boiling kettle and thought what a dull thing domestic life was without anyone to share it with. Leaving for work after these morning thoughts always left me aroused and frustrated, like a lightening rod on a clear day. My urges were still present, but their outlet was nullified by my mental block. The still-life reality of my dead wife turned me only toward the two-dimensional models of Mr. Paul Raymond Publications?and towards incestuous thoughts of my daughter.* * *Hungry, on the train home after work, I turned over the conversations I had just had, turning them over like a damp stone in my mind. A plaintiff passenger was singing a foreign song of far-away loneliness, and the growls of my churning stomach united with him in an exotic angry soundtrack, full of. Anna glanced over as the two young men, both shirtless stood in front of the house. She slowed down and then stopped, millimeters away from Jack. She flipped the visor up on her full face helmet, revealing her pretty face and warm brown eyes. ‘Hey, where’s Highway 52 go to?’ she asked, pointing toward Lafayette. ‘Basin,’ Jack smirked, thrusting his crotch forward. ‘Stops there?’ Anna asked. ‘Well, no, I mean, once you get past the Basin, there’s Flowers, and then past that’s Lafayette,’ Jack said, losing some of his bravado. ‘And what’s the Basin?’ Anna asked, more amused than curious. ‘Oh, you know, where you go when you want to come,’ Jack said, smirking again. ‘And do you want to come?’ Anna asked, enjoying herself. The kid had no idea how old she was, the helmet, even with the visor up, hid most of her face. And he wasn’t looking at her face anyway, his eyes had not gotten above her thirty four D breasts. The shirt was so tight she had not seen the need for a bra and Jack drank.
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