"It's three o'clock on a winter morning, foggy, the roads slick with ice. You turn in the bed, away from the man and his thick arms, his muscled chest, the wrists powerful from days spent with hammers and saws. You open your eyes and begin to calculate each of the moves it would take to get you out of here: the flip of he blankets, the swing of your legs onto the floor, the search for your clothes crumpled on the chair by the desk, gathering those clothes in your arms and tiptoeing over the creaking planks to pull them on in the other room--the boyfriend muttering from his side of the bed, or not making a sound, his eyes tightly closed, his head twisted away. And then the search for your purse, your shoes, your keys, your coat, standing with all these things by the doorway, trying to decide whether or not to say good night... ...Just the thought of it exhausts you, and when you contemplate even the first of these moves--the turning back of the covers--you realize the imp...
I only hope only to assuage your grief by reminding you that the equine is, in fact, the most unfortunate looking form of transportation save for possibly a cruise ship or moped and overrated at any rate. Now you are afforded the opportunity to stay off the horse for good and instead find yourself a fine automobile. More pleasant in its appearance and far more reliable, a car has only a single flaw, doors. Surely you will find yourself in the regrettable position of having to operate the doors. This is unless you are one of the fortunate few who will find someone to gladly open them for you. Then I say, you shall become the toast of your peers and the envy of your enemies.
ReplyDeleteOf course this is just my opinion, I could be wrong.