Art and the philosophy of life

“Is this your place?”

“It is,” she said, throwing her bag on the chair, starting to get undressed.  “I have a few places, here and there.  You know how it is.”

“I don’t think I do,” he mumbled, looking around the room.”

“Shower’s that way,” she said, pointing to the right. “Towels are in the cabinet under the sink.  Help yourself.  I’ll join you shortly.”

The bathroom was amazing.  He stripped out of his clothes, turned the shower on hot and piled a stack of thick, heavy, white towels where he could reach them.  Then he walked into the shower and stood there, letting the water run down his battered body. 

“Great shower, isn’t it?” she asked, putting her hands on his back.  He jumped and almost fell.

“What is it with you?” she asked, reaching for the soap.  “Look, sex can be distracting.  I’ve found it’s best to just deal with it right away and if we like it, okay, and if we don’t, that’s okay too, but at least we won’t drag things out like they do in those silly romance novels.  Fifty chapters in and she’s still not sure if he wants her.  He, of course, has no idea if she wants him…and on and on it goes, until you start screaming at the characters to just SHUT UP, or do it.”

“I never met anyone like you before,” he said, grinning.

“That’s a good thing, right?” she asked, putting her arms around his neck.

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