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April 07, 2004
confidential to . . . N.
I was just thinking about him today. my dear friend N.
I'm in the bath, reading The Calligrapher by Edward Docx, and the first few chapters remind me of the strange little attic room he inhabited when we first met, with no furniture and oddly placed kitchen. (A particularly interesting paragraph reminded me of one of our conversations about women...I'll be sure to type the quote here when I find it...)
So, I'm splashing in the bubbles, looking at the lovely lady on the cover of this book, and had this nearly irresistible urge to call him up, long-distance, to offer:
"darlin, why don't you come over. I'll be the girl, you be the pillow..."
here's to enigmatic oddities.
and dark blue nail varnish.
and fondly remembered former lovers.
and pillows.
Posted by Heather at April 7, 2004 09:46 AM
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Comments
I've been a lurker on this site. Interesting. I'm a bit confused about the recent men. There's the one you call your current squeeze, the one who presented you a gift at dinner, the one about whom you did the gaylord dance, and the one with the nice abs who bought you an outfit. Are they the same person, different, should I be reading this as fiction? Where do you meet these boys, if they exist? Sorry if I'm missing the point. Fun reading, though.
Posted by: Condoleeza at April 8, 2004 12:20 PM