Every Single Day
Last night, I put on a CD of Bizet and relaxed in front of the fire. I read a portion of a delightful book I have read before called, ‘The Copper Beech’ and sipped at a cold Australian Chardonnay. Now I suppose I begin the real thing. The main event. I lay the book aside and stand to undress. I throw my clothes over the end of the sofa and spread a huge bath towel on the cushions. The room is warm and private. The heavy, lined curtains are drawn closely. The lighting is set just so. I lay down...