i got home and walked up the stairs and she came out of the shower still damp, timing of the gods. i pushed her against the door and kissed her. if i hadn't had my hands full with a red velvet embroidered bedspread and an oil painting of a sofa i would have pulled open her dressing gown and pushed her back into the shower. she pushed me away and laughed and said: you're drunk you crazy, and escaped downstairs.
two other people said the same thing immediately afterwards when they saw me.
however, i am absolutely, deadly, seriously, 100% certain that i was not drunk.
i sit on the floor, but sometimes i have guests who like sitting like european people do. i'm not about to clutter my floor and cover up my best afghan silk qilim (a gift from a certain shady colonel-saheb, colonel of what we're not sure, but that's another story) with bulky armchairs. but now i've at least indulged them with an abstract painting of a sofa which i found in a skip.
two other people said the same thing immediately afterwards when they saw me.
however, i am absolutely, deadly, seriously, 100% certain that i was not drunk.
i sit on the floor, but sometimes i have guests who like sitting like european people do. i'm not about to clutter my floor and cover up my best afghan silk qilim (a gift from a certain shady colonel-saheb, colonel of what we're not sure, but that's another story) with bulky armchairs. but now i've at least indulged them with an abstract painting of a sofa which i found in a skip.
