He takes tiny, fragile steps to proloing the view out of the corner of his eye.
Stepping as if the asphalt was made of glass to witness the sea of
mini-skirts and creeping up crop tops. No one more grateful than him for Summer's
arrival. An expert in REM, the eyes move in slo-mo jumping jack fashion at every
bounce of a female's passing step. Mouth drooling at the sight of her legs:
legs he didn't propose to, legs that didn't meet him at the aisle, legs that didn't
bear the weight of his children, legs that didn't belong to his wife.




6 old applause
