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October 3, 2005

D: The Girl With The Sun In Her Head

My suitcase is in the hallway, my jacket entangled with one of her shoes halfway inside one sleeve. Her scarf snakes its way across the threshold to the study, tantalizingly close to my tie as it hangs from the door knob. My shirt, tossed languorously in an arc across the back of the couch, embraces her discarded summer dress with cuffs that weren’t unbuttoned. Her panties peek out from under the coffee table at the matching bra strewn aside in anxious frustration. My suit pants and boxers block the bedroom door slightly ajar.

It is good to be home again.

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Comments

Which, for those of you keeping count means he does it with his socks on.

Posted by: D at October 3, 2005 8:15 AM · Permalink

"languorously"

Cool.

Posted by: DigSauce at October 3, 2005 9:16 PM · Permalink



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