Busy Hands

They say idle hands are the devil’s playground. Or something like that.

She’d never really believed in that, but this might be a good jumping-off point in the conversation about to be had.

She slipped off her clothes and dipped her toes in the water to make sure the temperature was what she needed. “A bit cooler please,” she said and stood up just a bit to let him fix the temperature and stir the water in the tub. “There,” he says, offering her his hand to help her into the tub. “See if that’s better.”

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Enjoying the Pool…

It’s one of those amazing desert nights. The temperature is perfect, the wind is just this very slight breeze, the desert smells because of all of the blooms and plants that are soaking up the recent rains are just incredible. We’re sitting in the pool, just enjoying a glass of wine, talking, and watching the bats fly around, getting their early-evening feast.

“There’s one!” you whisper, and point to the west – I can just make him out against the incredible orange skies as the sun settles in and the last bits of color leave the sky.

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