Can you believe it's been two years since I climbed Mt Fuji? I know I can't, where the hell has the time gone? Why haven't I finished my bloody novel yet? Blah blah... Life! Blah blah... Work! Blah blah... Cute little babies and first born demanding attention. I've just celebrated the twelfth anniversary of my thirtieth birthday, so that means I'm getting on for middle aged. On the plus side at least I don't wet myself when I laugh! So I've been reading 'The Dirty Havana Trilogy' by Pedro Juan Gutierrez... So far, so bloody fantastic. If your starving, drunk on bad rum, and have no money to your name at least you can cheer yourself up by getting your sexy on. It has inspired me to throw this microfiction together. OK so the characters may not be staving, might possibly be a little tipsy, and almost certainly going to get their jiggy on. That's possibly as close to the book as it's going to get... Enjoy!
I run my fingers over my beard, I often do this
if I’m thinking hard about something (or trying to give the impression that I’m
thinking hard about something).
‘Well?’ she said and gives me a look
that asks, ‘are you going to answer me tonight?’
‘What was the question again?’ We
both know I’m playing with her.
She smiles
and pours me another, repeating her question slowly letting her lips and tongue
properly form the words. I adore the way they move, I could sit here and watch
her talk all night. Perfect diction.
