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Nathan smiled again, and cupped her head in his hands; he began to circle her lips with his tongue, then pushing the bottom lip down gently with his thumb, the kissing grew deeper. Michelle enjoyed this more than expected, and the pleasure it gave momentarily distracted her from the anguish of seeing her severed hair covering the carpeted floor below her feet. The deep kissing continued for a few minutes, until he gently withdrew his tongue and released her chin and mouth from his grip. Walking behind her once again, Michelle could hear him rumbling through a bag where he had the scissors and other tools. 'I'll have to get used to this new short hair,' she thought, and just as she reached upward to touch her shorn locks, Nathan unexpectedly grabbed her arms and thrust them down by her sides. "No," he said sternly, making Michelle flinch, and then the popping sound of clippers made her tremble all over, shaking unsteadily. "Stay still," he said in a softer tone, yet still firm. "If. With the zeal of pursuing my life’s dream, I brought the cottage up to scratch. I could only afford fresh paint and simple maintenance. The fabric of the cottage was sound enough, all of its grey roof slates were there and rust-coloured with lichen. White-washing the cottage exterior and painting the windows was a thankless task in the oppressive July heat. What it took in effort, it gave back by tanning my body to a healthy biscuit glow.This was how I first met Anne-Pierre. I remembered that first encounter with vivid clarity and played it back in my mind many times. I could feel her stare on the back of my head. She watched me paint; I was shirtless and only in shorts. Standing there at the wizened gate, she stared at me motionless.Her printed cotton dress flapped slightly in the sea breeze. It clung to her slim petite body as the wind pushed it against her. A floppy canvas hat rested at a jaunty angle with a single trestle of red hair loose over her forehead. She looked at me with.
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