Chapter 1
He had the body of a 25-year old and his 55-year old face was still youthful.
Dewy.
When she saw him, he was building a small canal in the middle of a forest shaped like a keyhole.
All of the men had taken off their dress shirts, removed their suspenders and were pitching in Amish Hollywood-style.
Men digging a canal in their dress pants
on a Sunday.
Syrupy.
It was peculiar.
It looked like a glitch in the system, an elevator stuck between two floors.
The canal filled with water. They kept digging. He kept dunking his body in the murky water.
She stood right in front of him in her floral summer dress and mirrored sunglasses.
He looked past her.
His dishwater blond curly hair glistening in the sun.
Viscid.
When she took off her glasses, he knew her right away.
His smile was highly infectious with a low mortality rate.
She wasn’t worried.
He said he could only see her once this week.
His fellow canal digger piped in, you must be the girlfriend he can’t have and motions to a letter that floated into his hand on cue.
He smiled. He seemed drunk.
He started to speak but nothing came out.
Oxidized.
He smiled again and walked towards her, little shards of charm oozing from his body.
She smiled back, turned and walked away.
