In bed after the first day of their holidays, A. asked,“How many times does he sleep until he has to go to work again?“
„Eight times,“ replied L. without thinking. He smiled. „Why it is that you talk to me in the third person, you have to explain. But only after I have served your coffee in bed.
Leaving the room, he shrugged on the shirt from the night before. It was simple, white, beautiful.
She dreamt out of the window while he was rummaging in the kitchen. Clouds, these fantastic clouds again and a clear view across the whole city. Purple spots of Jacaranda-lined streets below. She would wander around town with her camera and only take pictures of jacarandapurple and birds. Sparrows.
When he gently kicked the door open, the tray with coffee in both hands, the little white shirt open, she admired his slim, athletic proportions and smiled.
„He didn’t need to do that! I thank him!“
Now her voice dropped an octave and sounded like a smoky basement dive.
„And how irresistible he looks. He must take off his shirt immediately, I cannot bear it!“
He grinned. This woman was maybe a little peculiar, but he never met anyone more fascinating. In their good moments he would do anything for her. He hastily put the tray on the small dresser at the bottom of the bed and smoothly jumped back into bed.
„I don’t think I can manage by myself, I need some help…“ He was resting on his side, head on his arm. With his free hand, he started a clumsy attempt to pull the shirt over his shoulder. He longed to feel her cool fingers on his skin and gave her his most innocent look, or so he hoped. Behind it, he tried to read her face. Her moods were so unpredictable; they might only be drinking coffee after all.
If only he had kept the suspense a bit longer, she thought.
meinbaumhaträder // mytreehaswheels 