The pale flesh of her thigh looked back at him as the fabric swayed with the rhythm of Hildy’s breath. ‘What?’ she asked. Jim’s eyes had becom... fixed on the slippers with the cotton balls on the toes. ‘Hildy, you’re too natural a woman to have little, white puffy things on your toes.’ She looked straight at him, not bothering to glance at her feet. ‘You’re right,’ she said, and flicked one foot and then the other and the slippers flew off against the closet door where she’d hid their suitcases.. The T.V. is off, but you hear music–soft music. The bedroom door is closed, so you open it. As you enter, you see still more candles: on the dresser, on the night-stand along the wall under the light switch, on the window sill. The smell of incense hangs in the air like a dream, and the bed is decked with white sheets, and red rose petals. ‘Where is she?’ you ask yourself aloud, as you stand there taking in the sight, feeling a stirring in your pants that you haven’t felt for a while. You hear. More

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