In the early evening of that day I had gone over to my girlfriend's apartment to pick her up to go to dinner. I sat in her living room while she dressed in the bedroom. She walked back and forth from bathroom to bedroom in different stages of dress and undress, this unintentional burlesque causing a build up of saliva in my mouth and constriction of my throat. I grabbed an Art Forum magazine out of the rack next to the chair where I was seated and thumbed through it as distraction. Soon, my eyes stopped flitting up to the bedroom entrance and I became lost in an article.
"Hi Boo." The click-clack of her open toed high heels on the hardwood floor had registered in the background but the sound of her voice startled me and I jerked my head up to her lush, young body curving out of skin tight blue jean denims. Moments before, I had turned the page of the magazine and saw the article on the endangered museum and the small photograph of the purple walls. I bored in on the photograph and the photograph bore into me, straight into my soul.
I hastily put the magazine back in the rack and looked after it as I did. I stood up and embraced my girlfriend and as we walked to the door of her apartment to leave I looked back at the magazine.
"Hi Boo." The click-clack of her open toed high heels on the hardwood floor had registered in the background but the sound of her voice startled me and I jerked my head up to her lush, young body curving out of skin tight blue jean denims. Moments before, I had turned the page of the magazine and saw the article on the endangered museum and the small photograph of the purple walls. I bored in on the photograph and the photograph bore into me, straight into my soul.
I hastily put the magazine back in the rack and looked after it as I did. I stood up and embraced my girlfriend and as we walked to the door of her apartment to leave I looked back at the magazine.
