Big, ancient cities were built near water. They had to be, or die. I always go there, to the water. I find some peace, a moment away from the clatter and excitement. I can step outside the loop for a bit and re-emerge, ready to join in again.
For a moment, it was like she stood on the edge of a dream.
A really strange, "primordial turtle in the granite" kind of dream.
Then she decided it was just another wacky reality selection
In her decidedly wacky, but mighty fun life.
Her curves were deadly, he knew that.
She ran hot and cold.
Warm at the edges one minute...
ice cold the next.
Yet he couldn't stop staring
at the way her dress flowed like liquid
over her lady nooks and touchable crannies.