Activity

Here he made a slightly sacerdotal gesture with cupped hands and I thought the excursion was over.

The saté would get between your teeth. He had toothpicks with him and handed me some proleptically.

We’d had some minor postprandial necking in the car, in the course of which I’d wondered if he was uncomfortable kissing in a sitting position.

He was a leading-man type who was just over the line into paterfamilias roles and hating it.

When I find myself in a homogeneous phase of my life, I like to have a caption for it. Guilty Repose is what I came up with for my caesura in Gaborone, which softens it: I went slightly decadent.