“Trouble sleeping?” he asked. Ellen continued past him to the refrigerator and pulled the door. The white light within shone brightly. Jim held his breath, attentively watching as the silhouette of Ellen’s naked body took shape beneath her thin cotton gown. She leaned over, shuffling the crowded array of jars, bottles and plates of leftovers, while Jim studied the faint shadows of curls under the arch of her lean thighs, and the heavy swells of her loosely hanging breasts. Ellen pulled out a bottle of beer and pushed the door closed with a bare foot as she twisted off the cap.
Lord Malinov, Flowers of Malinov