i was feeling quite cat like, i’d found a warm spot in the sun and curled up with my laptop to work. i’m drawn to the october sun, it’s less about heat and more about warmth. it takes it’s time, easing into me layer by layer until i’m engulfed by it, until it’s worked its way through my hair to my scalp, through my sweater to my t-shirt to my shoulders, through my socks to my toes. i suddenly realize that considerable time has passed, and i’ve long stopped thinking about the spreadsheet on the laptop in front of me. i slowly set down my laptop on the floor and stretch out full on the couch.
you, by contrast, are sitting at the table, working. I know i should be good. i know i shouldn’t distract you. but one look at you and i can feel my insides start to smolder. i need to send a spark your way… I take off my sweater. no response from you… your fingers don’t even slow on the keyboard… and now i’m thinking about your fingers and i want them touching me… i remove a sock and lob it over to the table where you’re sitting, but it falls short. i take off the other one and lob it past the first to land on your keyboard. you glance at me out of the corner of your eye, brush the sock away and return to your typing…