15 August, 2018 Longshot Island
They made love. There was nothing bashful about it, nothing hurried. They spared no thought for modesty. He made sure that they were both utterly naked before caressing her body completely, then giving her the chance to caress his at will. Anybody could have come at any moment, but nobody did. The world was held at bay. There were just the two of them and the sky above, the sweat that poured from their bodies and evaporated before it touched the burning earth. When they had finished, he drew pitchers of water and poured them over her body and his, making her laugh in delight.
‘What’s your name?’ he asked as he slipped her blouse up over her arms and fastened the buttons between her breasts.
‘Kamala. Will you marry me?’
‘No.’
Writer of Stories, Spinner of Yarns. 