It was a Friday when school did not meet for our kids and their sitters. I lay across our leafy-green bed, watching as Diana emerged with billowing clouds of steam, out from the shower, her smooth skin shining wintry white with an undertone of warmed pink. The sitter, our sitter, the angel of relief, had been scheduled to arrive very shortly, so I subdued my lusty appetite while watching Diana dress. The morning sun illuminated our bedroom window in bold splashes of light, shooting a long bright line fiery over Diana’s snowy hips, sparking glitters of gold in the fine lacework of her bare bush. Diana slipped on a tan skirt and a stiff cotton white blouse. She turned on the hair dryer. I checked the kids.
Lord Malinov, Journals of Lord Malinov