SALAMI HORSES
Roman was embarrassed. It wasn’t because of that provocative woman serving in the refreshment stand, or her sun-tanned skin with the white stripes left by the straps that he supposed all that long sunny yesterday had kept up on her body the thin blouse, which girls today call a top. At work today, she had nothing on but the bikini bra of her swimsuit, which without any sort of straps miraculously held on to her large, somewhat sagging breasts; a trick that these women are expert at; a trick they have for the men and boys when they hand them warm bottles, bending over to pull them out of the chests beneath the counter, or when they stretch out all their curves to reach the button of the radio on the highest shelf behind the chocolates and cigarettes, turning up the volume wit
