Paul NixdorfClem made his way back to Jen. He found her back in the river, trying to wash the mud out of her hair and clothes.
“I don’t know,” he joked. “I nearly kill myself pulling you out of the river and next thing I know, you get straight back in!”
Jen stood up straight and smiled. Clem noticed that she had not yet adjusted her bra. In hauling her out, he had managed to pull it up over her breasts and around her neck. Her white shirt was saturated and as a consequence had turned transparent. The water was freezing cold. Three loosely connected occurrences with one extraordinary result: Clem could see Jen’s breasts in all their full beauty. He could see her brown n*****s, hardened by the cold. He could make out the tiny pimples that ran around their base. He could see that her breast
