A futon, computer desk, TV, the normal items. I guessed the new owner of the house to be about 30 years old. No one on our street has a computer. So t...at was a nice change indeed. Then, from helping one of the men carry the futon, I thought I saw our new neighbour. He was gorgeous, from where I was standing. About 5’7 and 160 lbs. His hair appeared to be medium brown, short and wavy. He was wearing an R.E.M t shirt and a pair of Bermuda shorts. That brief fantasy of me talking to him was soon. "She won't be home until close to 8:00. Let me get you something hot to drink. Tea? Hot cocoa?" Tea would be nice, Mrs. Walker." Amy smiled as she lay the damp dishtowel on the kitchen island. "So I've discovered Mrs. Walker's fountain of youth," nodding to Marsha's exercise mat. "Emily says you're addicted." "No more than Emily is addicted to soccer." Marsha walked to the mat, grabbed her own towel, and wiped the sweat from her forehead. Her gray tank top was damp between her breasts with the. More

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