There was a beautiful aboriginal boy on the tram this morning. Sleepy. Struggling to stay awake. He had dark eyes with luminous whites. Skin like velvet, flawless. Chocolate. Luxuriously black hair, slightly wavy. When the sun fell across him, his glory was well lit up; contrasting shadows in the creases of the material of his trousers. His eyes opened lazily, as the golden rays fell across his skin. He smiled, sleepily, in my direction, as our eyes met, then his eye-lids slid closed, again. He was beautiful - men asleep are beautiful. I gazed at his beauty.
I worked till late, 9pm.
SMS. 22.15. 4 sleeps till puppy day. How about Billie 4 her name? R u coming 2 visit Tues? U have 2 c her as a wee babe! – Rachel
SMS. 22.20. Billie is good, I like it – Christian
SMS. 22.42. Then when I get a boy he can be called Blu. All sorted…Billie & Blu…phew! Now I can sleep easy ni night xxx – Rachel
SMS. 22.46. Nite. Now do your husband a favour – Christian
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