”“You okay?” I asked.She climbed down from the ladder, grumbling sourly. She got down on her hands and knees and started raking the contents, a bunch of old photos and albums, into a pile.I dropped what I was doing and moved over to help her.It was all her stuff. High School yearbooks, fat scrapbooks, faded photos from college, etc. There were lots and lots of loose photos. Hundreds. Woulda been a small fortune in film and development costs back in the day. Her with frizzy 80s hair, her with friends I didn’t recognize, sporting events, her during the college Grunge years - wearing combat boots and a flannel, etc.But one random photo out of this immense pile caught my eye. “Hello … what’s this?” I picked it up and showed it to my wife.“Oh shit! Gimme that!” And she made a lunge for it.I yanked it out of her reach and stood-up looking at it, mildly amazed. “This is you.”Of course it was her … but in the photo she was naked. Twenty-five years we’ve been married she’s never once let me. Her heart began to pump faster and she felt her face blush as she walked down off the veranda and up the hill side.He was smiling at her as she approached. His face lit by the moonlight his eyes sparkling as he said “Can’t sleep too?”She nodded and stood a short distance from him. His voice so warm yet manly drew her eyes to his lips. Her stomach fluttered as she felt suddenly very warm between her legs. He was so close. So handsome.“My name is Mike, Michael really but call me Mike” He said softly but clearly.“Mike” She repeated and then said “My name is Shireen” Now why had she lied?She hadn’t meant to lie, it had just come out. She felt embarrassed.“Nice name” Mike said softly, his voice carried a hot sensuousness she had heard before in “Dumb calls” from strange boys all saying “I love you’ followed quickly by a request for ‘friendship’. Somehow the way it was said always meant that more was on their mind then just friendship. Safia contemplated her next move. Her mind racing.
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