SpiNion
I just bought a new desk. It’s this modern – or, contemporary
– piece. A desk. It’s asymmetrical, you know… the color blocking, on the
leather, I mean. The top of it, where I write is divided into two. The left
side is white and black is on the right. The white side is much smaller than
the black..
So I try to write on the black side. You know, it won’t get
as dirty with my smudges, being a leftie and all. But the white, it’s so
beautiful, it’s not stark white, but it’s a warm white, if you know what I mean.
I keep it pretty clean. I polish it every day. It’s the nicest piece of
furniture I’ve ever owned. It was such a stark comparison this beautiful,
polished, dignified desk floating in a room full of stained rugs, tattered
ottomans, chipped coffee table. So I cleaned. Vacuumed, mopped, tsk, even steamed, everywhere . The
living room, the kitchen, my boudoir,
bathroom. All of it.
Before I knew it I was done, wiping down that grimy bathroom
mirror, and I saw myself. I mean crystal clear. And I looked like I just made
love with the hero of my life. Hot cheeks, hazy eyes, sweaty brow, and the
best, panting.
So E__, that’s what I’ve been up to.
