Sick Sacraments - The Chapters

25. read my fridge Relishing the moment, lying in her bedroom alone, sunlight beaming   in, the cream white lace curtains occasionally moving on a wisp of a   breeze, she remembered. Her senses being heightened by passion. The   way his generic menthol cigarette protruded from his pursed lips when   they watched reruns of cartoons on television. The mysterious hair   growth he had found on her body. The warmth of a man sleeping next to   her. The sticky fingers, the bald head. The occasional sexual faux   pas. The smell of petunia oil on her sheets. The small change that   had fallen out of his pants pockets as he undressed. Usually she was drawn to guys like Bill from the pool cleaning   service, always in swim gear and ready to ’take a dip,’ or men, like   her first husband Kurt, in uniform and ’ready to shoot.’ This one was   different. For one thing, he was a living artist, good storyteller   and funny. He was also somehow ...