She glanced over and winked at us raising her drink. I blushed but my wife was fuming,‘You’re an asshole, you know that Peter?’ I tried to a...ologise.‘Get me a drink’ she said as she stormed off.We sat at a table alone in the steamy atmosphere. I was still trying to explain,‘Honey, you look so wonderful.’‘I made the effort tonight.’ She moaned.‘I know you did.’ I knew couldn’t win, she was so angry.She did look stunning. She wasn’t as tall and slender as the blonde woman but. His dark little film noir had a firm play date and it was plotted under a starless proscenium, so he nipped her up and onward toward that stinky old sleeping bag, her ill-lit stage. He pranced her along, salivating less with intelligence than with the Pavlovian anticipations of the specticle to come. Could he visualize this child's comedic shakings as a mockery of a girl shivering to death, or did he predict the future in the way the soulless always seem to do? He had come to expect her. More

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