Chapter Eleven
There couldn’t be a more picture perfect Saturday than this brilliant one. Skies are blue, filled with moving puffy clouds and horizons of great swaying trees, their leaf-bedecked arms oscillating as the breeze baffles them with its inconstant currents of air.
I love this wind in my hair, and the feeling of mirth I enjoyed when I awakened. Joseph and I eat breakfast on the patio. I’m naked. Joseph in a pair of shorts. He’s fixed coffee, a cream-filled pastry, and fluffy scrambled eggs.
“I didn’t realize how much f*****g makes me ravenous,” I exclaim as I douse a bit of pastry with a gulp of coffee.
He’s been snickering all morning, and finally says, commenting on the night before, “You were beautiful.”
“Beautiful as in my body, or beautiful getting screwed?”
“Both.”
I
