“And…what was it like?” She looks at me as if it was a silly question. “What do you think? It was just a fuck. It was not like anything.” J...sus, this woman’s…possibly onto something. She just takes it all in her stride. “Mm, okay.” The room goes quiet for a while as she folds a few clothes and I contemplate my toes while the calming smoke fills my lungs and my head begins to clear. “Anything lined up for this afternoon?” I ask her, suddenly feeling confident enough to look Petra in the eye. . I thought that I might manage to do as well as most of the work I'd seen but to see if I had any sort of writing talent I joined a creative writing class. The class consisted mainly of middle- aged middle class university educated females. I'm middle- aged but in none of the other categories. The lecturer was a posing ponce whose main interest was to get off with the more tasty looking females. There were a couple of ladies into whose inkwells I would have liked to dip my quill, but generally. More

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