written by owen on 2006-Sep-03.

I spent most of saturday afternoon chatting with the local runway model on my veranda. A veranda which was dirty from rains of the previous week. I had not the chance to clean it. She promptly forced herself onto my to-do list. A list which I was already busily procrastinating over. She woke me up the second time from my mid-afternoon nap slash thinking time. We talked about life and random model stuff. She sat there talking, tall, dark with short nappy like sonic the hedgehog except not blue. She was bored at home. She had come over the previous week to she my nephew and check her email. Since he is not here I guess I got added to her short list of friends. Whom am I to refuse?

I tried my best to entertain her with whatever wit I could harness from the depths of my sole. I'm a good listener. We talked about her insecurities, aging, love, sex, trust, children, flat stomachs, her big goggly eyes and her sexy boobs. She is really proud of her breasts in a highly self-critical a way, like most self conscious model types. Breasts which hang from her chest like they were the source of life itself on a string, in ten dimensional space. Her defining feature, an arms length away, resting in her lose blouse, resting quietly. She dreams of traveling, likes caring for the elderly and would do anything for a man she truly loves. I wanted the rain to fall but it had seemed that she had chased the rain away. I sat there reiterating, trying to get under her skin, make the best of the time before her cellphone would ring again.

I seized the opportunity to run my hands through her hair, and held it firmly, dragging her head gently forward while she was about to leave, she wanted me to smell it but I refused - I just wanted to be playful - the hair was a safe bet. The chinese food was calling me. I was really hungry. The conversation had pretty much run down to a near standstill, plus I was really hungry. She doesn't cook either so she understood why I buy chicken fry rice, religiously every saturday like a monk. She is too much for me to handle maybe gods will favor me next week.

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