Hot Afternoons
Great story, from the elusive Blushes 78, either by R.T. Mason or someone copying his style. Looking out of her bedroom window Amanda could see at the end of the garden the two workmen. They were putting in a drain or something. Yes it was a new drain, she remembered her mother saying. It was a warm afternoon, September, the end of summer, and they both had their shirts off. One older, her father’s age perhaps, with a beer belly, but the other one was different: mid-twenties, trim and muscular. He was the one Amanda’s eyes were fixed on: the muscles in that back, those shoulders. A body like that could make a girl feel slightly breathless. When you were seventeen, and it was a hot, sultry afternoon and you were supposed to be working. Writing that essay. Amanda reluctantly turned away from the window. She had to concentrate her mind on the essay. Her full lips mouthed an expletive. She sat down at her desk, trying to think about the essay. But there were all the other thoughts cr...