Marathi Housewife After Dinner Giving Please To...

It was like they were glued shut but he relaxed and thought of the most beautiful dream he had last night. He couldn’t remember much of it, his head was hazy and he tried to open his eyes again.He decided to leave them shut and listen to the music while his memory tried to recall the events of the previous evening. He remembered meeting his work colleagues at the tavern, he had a few drinks to celebrate one of the office girls leaving and then, and then he could not remember much at all.In fact, he could not remember anything after accepting the shared taxi ride with Chantelle, the girl who was leaving the organization to go overseas. He remembered sitting in the back seat of the taxi. Making small talk about her forthcoming relocation. He remembered arriving at his apartment and leaning over to kiss Chantelle's cheek good night and goodbye, wishing her a safe trip, feeling the softness of her lips and then, and then nothing. He could not remember anything after that. He could not. Then we got up and after a breakfast of cereal and toast were on the road to the Cheviots for a long bracing walk, lunch at a pub near the Roman Wall, and a relaxing drive back. In the early evening she took me to meet her colleagues at the hospital watering hole, most of whom I had not seen for a while. It was the usual mix of gossip, anecdotes and ribald humour. Everyone was relaxed and that helped me. I felt a warm glow, fuelled no doubt by the pints which were going down with reckless rapidity, but also by the lack of any of that emotional intensity which characterised life back in Sale. I say everyone was relaxed. There was one who looked anything but. When I went to return some of what I had gained from the bar in the gentleman’s washroom, the worried one followed me. He was a muscular young man with a handsome face and a shock of red hair. We stood at the stalls side by side. ‘Allan,’ he said, looking straight ahead. ‘Yes?’ I answered in like manner. ‘I’m Tim.’ ‘Oh. Pleased.
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