She wanted him like an egg salad sandwich in the afternoon, a new pair of Jimmy Choo's Romy 100 glitter heels, or a hit of Marionberry Kush with a diet Coke.
It was bad. Sometimes it was fucking libidinous of her.
Lizzy would go out of her way to run into Saul. It was obvious.
It had to be obvious! Everyone in the town knew!
They could see Lizzy's head do a complete 360, when they knew she wanted a 69. But the two would pass each other and a fucking boring exchange of
" Hi, how are you's " would go on like tea time in Carolina, then they would go about their business while the whole street would let out a loud despondent sigh.
Saul was an artist who sold his paintings down in the marketplace on First Friday, when all the artisans came down, gathering in small groups, drinking IPA's and making dull conversation.
Lizzy was a part-time dog walker, and full time caregiver to her aging mother, who had started to show signs of Alzheimer's disease. Lizzy always managed to make an excuse to go down Hood street though.
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