Neither of us moved to dress. Dawn painted the sky with a palate of soft orange and yellow which made our skin glow. Mavis doodled patterns on her ski..., using my semen. We looked at each other, sharing the surreal moment. The news came on the radio and nothing was reported. “Too early!” she said. We sat and watched the paddocks of stunted, sparse wheat pass, eerie in the morning orange hue that was suggestive of fire and reminded of drought. We looked at each other too, fascinated by the. Part of the reason is that she flat doesn’t need them. I was batting way above my head when I married Cecilla. She was a very beautiful woman. As much as I love my wife, she couldn’t hold a candle to Ce. Ce got all her mother’s looks, body type, hair color, and then a lot more. A lot more of something that makes her shine. That special something that attracts people, and makes them smile. I know I’m daddy and bias, but I honestly think Ce could walk a Paris runway in a gunny sack. Ce will never. More

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