“ Good, thanks,” or “Fine, thank you,” or “Who the hell are you showing up at my doorstep unannounced?”
Crunching it up into a tight little ball, she hurled it savagely in the direction of the trash basket. Of course, she missed.
***
She’d spent the last 10 years honing her pallet down to the color blue.
A burly robin flitted into the sycamore outside her apartment window, his red chest puffed up in avian pride before he belted out a splendid trill.
Writing: It was a wicked problem.
Though she knew, vaguely, that he was telling some charming anecdote about Breton—something about giraffes and champagne?
The sandwich board at Montgomery and Kearney caught her eye. *** “Yes, please, both,” she answered, standing awestruck in front of a gargantuan canvas of energetic sprays, lines and circles and dots leaping off the canvas into her soul.
Pauline pulled herself back to reality. Away from the hands. Into the words.
“Indeed,” Adam snapped his fingers for the garcon, ordering the drink. And under the table, Mimi sighed in anticipation as she slipped off her stiletto, her bare foot snaking around his leg, slinking down his calf and flicking off his shoe. *** ~~From Leonora and Adam, a novel in progress.....