It has been so cold for so long that it feels kind of odd that the air is close to 40 degrees. Above zero. The snow is melting and making ice slicks on the streets and walks at night when it dips back below freezing. This is by no means the end of winter here in the frozen tundra but it is a signal that it will end, eventually. It's primary day so I've got to stop at the polling place on my way to work and cast my vote. I have a stack of info gleaned from the newspaper to go over one more time so I can make informed choices, not that they stick to their promises once they get into office, but when has it ever been different? Voting is what's important anyway.
February 14--Riza Abbasi, Two Lovers. Javan's hands were hesitant as he moved them over her shoulder. He was glad that it was dark under the jasmine at the edge of the garden light. He was not experienced at the dance of love and preferred not to see his ineptness reflected in her eyes. For her part, Cilla was happy for the dark too. She felt her heart beat faster as Javan's fingers trailed over her shoulder and moved to cup her breast. Her breath caught as his warm hand slid under her loose robe to touch her bare flesh. It had been a long day of fancy dress, a procession, ceremonies, and altogether too much family. The young couple had escaped the stifling bedchamber to walk out into the darkened garden where cool fountains played and sweet breezes cooled their heated bodies but nothing could cool their ardor.
Enjoy your day.
--Barbara
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