"My darling woman, it would be my pleasure," I told her as I dramatically bowed low to her. She giggled and turned back to fixing her hair."My hair is...such a mess," she said grumpily. I laughed."Last night was your idea, lover," I reminded her. She looked at me sharply but I kept a grin on my face and she couldn't get mad at me. She was too honest for that. Finally, she chuckled too."I know... but that doesn't help me with this!" She was trying to comb out a tangled mass of her brunette. ‘Isn’t that what people do?’ I asked. ‘Not like you do.’ She stared at me. I stared back. Who was this woman? Some nameless broad I met in some nameless bar? Was she my wife? A girlfriend? No, not even that. She was just a girl. A companion for the evening, nothing more, probably much less. No need to explain the complexities of my thought processes to her. No need to explain what I thought about the nature of reality. None of that mattered to her. What did matter to her then? I resigned my. More

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