It was as though I had seen some sex goddess in front of me. She came home with breakfast. I guess she just took bath. Her hair was wet and let loose....I was in my shorts and sleeveless t-shirt. I was kind embarrassed to be dressed up like that in front of her. Then we had breakfast then sat down for a chat. It was bright Sunday. Then she told me a lot of things including her depressing sex life. I told her not to worry and told her consolingly that life is like that. She felt pretty good. The tables were almost as dirty as was the floor, there were no pillows on the ramshackle chairs and benches, from the stove in the corner came puffs of smoke and too much heat. I had had my share of dubious food and cheap wine, but was not drunk — it would not have been a good idea for a woman on her own to get drunk in such a place. I was tired, but not sleepy. I did not want to think — or rather, there were things I did not want to think about. I had run out of things to read. I tried to. More

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