‘What do you want for Christmas hubby?’ she asked, and then she took a greedy bite from a banana. Her husband gazed at the banana. ‘A hat? A watch? A car?’ ‘No,’ he said. He whispered in her ear what he wanted. Her eyes fell on the banana. She blushed.
This is the love story of my pillow and I. * If on this stilly Friday night Who-I-want-to-be-with-me would be with me, I would carry her to the bathroom and lay her in the tub And after she undresses I would help her take a bath: I would soap her back and scrub it with … Continue reading Someone Whose Breaths to Count…
The redhead got up and moved away from the hatted boy. He wept. Three stops later, she alighted from the bus. Before the doors closed, she threw at him a crumpled paper, aiming at his head. It was her phone number, but the last two digits were XX. ‘The vixen!’ (Continued from yesterday.)
boy with a hat 