Looking in the Mirror (Blogophilia 24.12)
"Am I Beautiful?"
He snored in the bed behind her, his scent permeating the room. The image in the mirror stared back. Nobody had watched me before.
Now, I am watched.
The hair was increasingly flecked with gray, but still long and shiny. She'd become thicker, no doubt about that. Belly like a bag of potatoes, butt like one of those rivet strips to let blind people know they've come to a curb. But the shape that drove men crazy was still there. The breasts were the most surprising. Soft and a little wrinkled, they still held their shape. She smiled and thought of last night.
He'd come up behind her last night on the dock. She had been smoking, thinking of Julie Andrew's character in 10 who had been dumped for the Bathsheba on the beach. And here they were in Isle of Palms, away from the city that was so distracting. Was he thinking about doing the same? There was only so much she could do to keep her looks.
As the chubby arms surrounded her, he called her a cask of fine wine. The description shook her-a cask, not a bottle? His smile was bigger than the moon. More for him to savor and when he died, he'd remember the taste in heaven. He always had a way with words. He took his drink and she took hers, then they took each other's. Night jasmine and gardenia surrounded their moonlight serenade. They danced and loved like honeymooners as the boats rattled in the moorings below them.
The answer was yes.
She was beautiful to him.
And that was all that mattered.
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Topic-Christine Wichman
Pic Guesses-Moonlight serenade (in blog), Isle of Palms (in blog), Honeymooners (in blog), paradise, island, silhouette
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