An innocent pleasure.
Last week there was a writing group with us in Deventer. The mission was an innocent pleasure. (for the holiday we had already received it and I explained it this time so...
Image of 2196557 via Pixabay
Blood-hot, it's really hot. Max doesn't really notice. If he does something, he does this with surrender. Now, now his focus is on the passing audience. Max loves that it's warm, without him noticing it himself. But the effect of that heat on the clothes of the public is astonishing. Unconsciously, Max rolls up the sleeves of his sweater. The waiter's been coming by for the third time to ask if he wants a drink and Max doesn't see or hear him. Now the waiter gets angry. “Say, if you want to sit here on the terrace, you'll have to drink.” Max looks up past the waiter. A blonde young lady in a mini skirt demands his concentration. Max brushes on the thick glasses of his glasses. The waiter hits the table, and Max just freaks out. Just out of its concentration.
“What is it?”
