At almost seven feet tall, the woman was both imposing and drop-dead gorgeous. She reminded me of a greyhound. I mean that in a good way: sleek, athletic, with a sharp and intelligent face. In fact, she looked exactly like your standard runway model, an impression enhanced by the drab surroundings of a low-rent laundromat. She was stunning, and that’s why I felt a little sorry for her.
At first, I was amused. This was apparently men’s day at the laundromat, and she was outnumbered a half-dozen to one. They formed a loose cloud of planetoids, randomly orbiting the heavenly body that simply didn’t belong there, captured in the gravitational pull of her beauty. Read the rest of this entry »






