“It’s turned into a real project, hasn’t it?” Cheryl asked and leaned her elbows on the table. Her blond hair pooled on the table for a minute before it slid away, a gossamer silk ribbon that caught the light before it disappeared.
“It has. When you two first suggested it I couldn’t imagine anything more than a single article about what polyamory was and wasn’t, but now? There’s a whole range of stories to tell.” I jotted down another note, and wondered if I’d ever really finish the project, now that I’d started. It could be a lifelong study, really. “But enough about me, how are you two?”
We fell into talk about their lives and I gave them my undivided attention for a while. I could be selfish and not give them any of my time, focus only on the delightful messages each of the men had
