Sticky warm, he left work at the crack of the last whip.
She stuck the paintbrush in the freezer in plastic like a lollipop for use tomorrow.
Wide flung doors and windows admitted a bit of cooling air. They stretched their paycheck on the rug for a picnic.
A little chicken, pasta salad, thank you. They talked about the news of job cuts and her long days. They each ate half a watermelon.
Out of the smoke of hills on fire, the full moon climbed the trellis emitting pure catlight.
During the night their stomachs talked like foghorns. In the morning, they met in the middle of the wiggle room before work.
There was still time to walk the dog.
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