I give to you a story in eleventy-one words...
He inched his hand up her blouse; his fingers fumbled and failed to unclasp the bra strap. Her nimble hand unfastened and yanked the undergarment out through her sleeve before he could blink. She turned and smiled. Then her blouse flew into the air and landed on the floor, leaving him to stare at her bare back. Well, not exactly bare. On the left was the countenance of a gaunt, slack-jawed man. On the right was a fat bearded face.
He inched his hand up her blouse; his fingers fumbled and failed to unclasp the bra strap. Her nimble hand unfastened and yanked the undergarment out through her sleeve before he could blink. She turned and smiled. Then her blouse flew into the air and landed on the floor, leaving him to stare at her bare back. Well, not exactly bare. On the left was the countenance of a gaunt, slack-jawed man. On the right was a fat bearded face.
‘Who are they?’
‘My two dead husbands. They both died within the week after
they turned 51. How old are you?’
‘I just turned 47.’
‘Well, we have a few years…’
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