Chapter Six
We were spending a quiet evening in my house, the kind of cozy evening where after a barbecue, and listening to soft music we drank beer on the patio, until the fog finally chased us inside, and the evening just continued on in that sensuous note of tranquility.
Kurt looked really good sitting in my paisley covered chair with his feet on my coffee table. He looked more domestic and less avant garde. I was reluctant to tell him what I was thinking, knowing that this kind of moment, as pleasing as it was, was hard for him. Used to restless meandering when we were at his place, he was always engrossed in something that had to do with his little house or the shop. Here we just sat and looked at each other, and read magazines, and watched TV and listened to music and made love. H
